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Black Entry Operations Into

Thomas L. Ahem, Jr.

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The Way We Do Things

May 2005

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Other works of Thomas L. Ahern, Jr. published by the Center for the Study ©^Intelligence include:

Estimates of Arms T raffic T hrough Sihanoukville,

Good Questions, Wrong Answers: CIA's
Cambodia During the Vietnam Warl 1(2004,

CIA an d the Generals: Covert Support to Military Government in South Vietnam
(1999,

CIA an d the House of Ngo: Co vert Action in South Vietnam, 1954-63
(2000,

CIA and Rural Pacification in South Vietnam

(2001 ,

The remaining unpublished book in this s eries will describe CIA's management of irregular warfare
In Laos during the Vietnam conflict.

The Center for the Study of Intelligence (CSI) was founded in 1974 in response to Director ol
Central Intelligence James Schlesinger's desire to create within CIA an organization that could
"think through the functions of intelligence and bring the best intellects available to bear on
intelligence problems." The Center, comprising both professional historians and experienced
practioners, attempts to document lessons learned from past operations, explore the needs and
expectations of intelligence consumers, and stimulate serious debate on current and future
intelligence challenges.

To support these activities, CSI publishes Studies in Intelligence, as well as books and monographs
addressing historical, operational, doctrinal, and theoretical aspects of the intelligence profession.
It also administers the CIA Museum and maintains the Agency's Historical Intelligence Collection.

HR_CIAU_CSI_PubReq@DA (in Lotus Notes) or venitik@cia.ic.gov (ICE-mail).

The cover design, by

of Imaging and Publication Support, shows the crew of a junk

about to depart on a supply mission to an agent along the North Vietnamese coast.

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The Way We Do Things:
Black Entry Operations
Into North Vietnam,
1961-1964n

Thomas L. Ahern, Jr.

Center for the Study of Intelligence

Washington, DC
May 2005

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Contents

Introduction

Is a Hammer

Chapter One: When Your Only Too
The End of the Honeymoon
Singletons by Sea, Teams by Air
Judgment by Prepon deran ce of Evidence
Father to the Thought
Under Enemy Control

Chapter Two: A More Ambitio us A genda
Stepping Up the Pace

An Appearance of Success

Teams TOURBILLON and EROS
Operation VULCAN
Soldiering On

Upping the Ante
No Other Options

Chapter Three: A Hesitant Escalation
Structural Problems
Business as Usual

■. 24

; 29

Under Military Control^ 52

An Uneasy Partners hip]""^ 54

With One Hand TiedriTZ 54

Restrictive Policy, Ambitious Plann ing
Ambivalence at Headquarters
Staying With the Program
Taking Off the Gloves|

Better Aircraft but No Better Luck
Improving the Technology]
A Game Not Worth the Candle

Chapter Four: Moving Toward Military Management
A Valedictory Surge

Chapter Five: "Just Shoot Them"
A Cultural Imperative
The Lust to Succeed

The. Pitfalls of "Lessons Learned"

Source Note

57
59
61
63

Index

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Introduction

This monograph completes a six-volume series on the contribution of the Central
Intelligence Agency (CIA) to the conduct of the Second Indochina War. Far from
exhaustive, the series samples the major aspects of the Agency's participation. These
include political action, intelligence, and pacification programs in South Vietnam;
management of the contemporaneous war in Laos; the analytical controversy over
the shipment of munitions to the Viet Cong through Cambodia; and the ill-f ated pro-
gram in which the Saigon Station inserted agent teams into North Vietnam.!

Some of these activities were rewarded with success that still looks substantial even
if, given the outcome of the war, it was necessarily transitory. Only two of the subjects
chosen for the series represent outright failures. Their unhappy outcomes made the
task of recording them a rather joyless prospect, but upon examination both of therr
turned out to embody the principle that failure is more instructive than success.

The lessons vary with the. case under study. This one, the story of the agents and
black teams inserted into North Vietnam, is offered as an object lesson in what hap-
pens when eagerness to please trumps objective self-analysis, when the urge to pre-
serve a can-do self-image delays the recognition of a failed— indeed, archaic-
operational technique.!"^

To tell the story of covert penetrations of North Vietnam without tracing the influence
on them of earlier such efforts in other locales would obscure their significance as a
paradigm of the CIA approach to HUMINT collection against closed and hostile soci-
eties. True, the earliest correspondence about infiltrating intelligence and guerrilla
operatives into North Vietnam makes no reference to this experience, which began in
Europe during World War II. But in fact the program against Hanoi adopted agent infil-
tration by parachute as the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) had practiced it in
Europe during World War II. CIA then modified— one might say diluted— it, in defer-
ence to the impossibility of arranging the ground reception parties used by the OSS,
in order to apply it against the Soviet Union, China, and North Korea, In this way, the
covert infiltration of intelligence and covert action teams, mostly by air although occa-
sionally overland or by sea, became an enduring facet o f the Clandestine. Service's
approach to the problem of penetrating closed societies.l

As applied by the OSS, the practice later known as "black entry" enjoyed its most
notable success with the Jedburgh operation, which after D-Day inserted teams of
American and indigenous nationality to mobilize local resistance movements against

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the Nazis. They armed French resistance fighters, including over 20,000 combatants
in Brittany alone, and these cut rail lines, derailed trai ns, a mbushed German road
convoys, and cut telephone and electric power lines. 1

The respectable showing of the Jedburgh teams, coupled with the absence of prom-
ising alternatives, made it natural to apply the blind drop technique against the Soviet
Union as cooperation against Hitler gave way to Cold War hostility. Both Nazi-occu-
pied Europe and the Soviet Union suffered the abuses of a brutal dictatorship, and it
seemed reasonable to expect the rise of a resistance movement against Stalin similar "
to those that Jedburgh had supported against the Germans. In any case, as Cold War
tensions hardened, the Agency had to do something, and no better alternatives were
at hand. Accordingly, between 1949 and 1959, CIA dispatchedf [agents, mostly by
air, into the Soviet Union under the aegis of the REDSOX program. 2

The effort enjoyed almost no success. Indeed, the chief of the Soviet Russia Division
in the Directorate of Plans wrote in 1957 that it had been "strewn with disaster." More
agents survived who were sent overland than those inserted by blind drop; of the lat-
ter, apparently someQin all, only three ever managed to exfiltrate, and one of these
was suspected of having been doubled. Meanwhile, the intelligence product of the
program as a whole was "pitifully small, and the anticipated intelligence support appa-
ratus, grafted on.. .underground resistance organizations, died aborning." Not even
the overland operations produced anything substantial, involving as they did shallow,
short-term penetrations of "largely uninhabited... border areas." The result was that
"no REDSOX agent ever succeeded in passing himself off successfully as a Soviet
citizen and penetrating, even briefly, into the Soviet heartland." 3

In 1971 , Operations Directorate (DO) historians attributed the failure of REDSOX to
two factors. One was the "implacable and ubiquitous KGB," The other was the
absence of the prospect of liberation that might have fueled resistance movements
like those in Western Europe during World War I!, 4

The same factors that produced the REDSOX program forced a similar effort in China
after Mao expelled the Nationalists in late 1949 and then, in mid-1950, sent the Peo-
ple's Liberation Army south to join the fray in Korea. With US forces in bloody combat
there, CIA launched a frantic effort to weaken the'Chinese intervention by infiltrating
the mainland with guerillas and potential resistance leaders. Drawing personnel from
Nationalist elements and also from non-Nationalists— the latter representing the seed
of a hoped-for anti-communist Third Fo rce — the Agency trained and dropped about
teams of agents onto the mainland. 5

1 War Report: Office of Strategic Services (OSS), History Project, Strataaic Services Unit, Office of the Assistant
Secretary of War, War Department, Washington, DC, 1959, 199-200 ]" I

et al., The Illegal Border-Crossing Program, Clandestine Service Historical Series (CSHP) 098, July

1971, 14?

3 Ibid., 142'

4 Ibid., 145-46.

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Hans Tofte, who ran the operations launched from| | later said that

communications intercepts reflected Beijing's belief that 50,000 guerrillas threatened
its rear area; he therefore rated the program a success. But Agency management
was not persuaded that these operations were in fact diverting any substantial Chi-
nese resources from Korea. By late 1 951 , Director of Central Intelligence (DCI) Gen.
Walter Bedell Smith was prepared to give up on them. The Agency could tie up more
communist resources, he thought, if it tu rned to larger scal e attacks and feints along
the coast. Accordingly, CIA trained over | [ guerrillas, who conducted

at least a dozen coastal raids. Whatever the results of these attacks — the y may have
been significant— the black entry program remained unproductive. 6

Undeterred by this record of failure, the Agency em ployed the black entry tactic
a gains t North Korea. Drawing on the membership of

CIA trained and dropped at leastPjeams into the North during 1952 and

1953. The known product of the activity was limited to one team's weather reporting,
useful to the US Air Force, before the team was overwhelmed in a surprise attack
after about six weeks on the ground. 7

Seeking to explain the paucity of results, a contemporary project review noted the
poor quality of team personnel and the disruptive effects of a change of mission.
Teams selected and trained for sabotage missions had abruptly been directed to cre-
ate resistance movements, a task requiring a very different set of skills. If these were
the operative factors, better agents and more coherent tasking would improve the
program's performance. But the activity w as ca nceled after the cease-fire of mid-
1953, and the thesis could not be tested. 8

| They

were thus the only teams to meet a criterion established by William Colby, when later
as Chief of the Far East (FE) Division he described the basis of the technique. 'The
rationale... springs essentially from World War II experience.... The population was
essentially passive to friendly, with at least a small elem ent willing to participate in
intelligence, sabotage, or resistance operations." 9

5 Woodrow Kuhns, unpublished monograph, "CIA and China in the Time of Mao," Center for the Study of Intelligence,

• IW.7TO-11.I I

7 Project Reviewrf

8 Ibid J

9 KuhnsTl 4-1 5; William E. Colby, Memorandum to DPP. "Black Team Infiltration by Air and Sea Against FE Denied
Areas— Cold War," 2 August 1963, quoted in Kuhns, 9.

undated, c. late 1953, History Staff files.

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Probably because it was so obvious, Colby did not make explicit the connection
between favorable indigenous attitudes and the exactions of an occupying foreign
power. He also left unmentioned a key element in the motivation of potential recruits

for inte

iiqence and resistance operations, namelv. the prospect of exoellina the occu-

cation.

There were other aspects of Colby's participation in OSS operations in Europe that
might have provided a cautionary note as the Saigon Station looked for ways to pen-
etrate communist-controlled North Vietnam.Colby had jumped twice, once into occu-
pied France and once into Norway, which was still in German hands in early 1945.
The French mission featured a wild mixture of mishaps and serendipity: dropped
squarely into a town some 25 miles from the pre-arranged site, Colby's team escaped
the occupying Germans only with the help of French civilians awakened by parachut-
ists landing in their gardens. 10 ) I

Serendipity took over after two nights of exhausted stumbling through the countryside
toward the drop zone. Coming upon a farmhouse unaccountably still lit at two in the
morning, Colby took a chance, and sent a French-speaking subordinate to the door.
In a coincidence worthy of a John Buchan novel, the occupants turned out to be the
very maquis cell that had waited in vain for the airdrop. The cell leader, inexplicably
uncooperative, was later identified as a Gestapo informant. He had abstained from
betraying the impending arrival of the OSS team only because the tide of wa r had
already turned, and he was cautiously playing both sides of the street. 11 !

As Gen. George Patton's Third Army broke the German lines at St. L6 and began roll-
ing east, Colby found other resistance leaders to receive the munitions that fueled the
uprising now erupting in the German rear area. In Norway, too, in early 1 945, Colby's
determination and courage led to tangible results, as his team blew a bridge and sab-
otaged a length of railway on the route from Finland back toward Germany. Saved
from pursuing patrols by the end of hostilities, Colby rode a train north over the tracks
he had so recently sabotaged; he later recalled having been "chastened by the short
time in which it had been repaired by Russian POW's." 12 [

Despite the derring-do mystique that still surrounds OSS activity in both Europe and
Southeast Asia, it is clear that black entry op erations, in Europe at least, made only a
peripheral contribution to the main war effort.]

[It may be that results there encouraged William Colby
and his Agency superiors to think that they had finally found the formula for success.

10 Willi am E . Colby, Honorable Men (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1979), Chapter 1
"Ibid.! -

12 Ibid., 50.

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Whatever the considerations that led to its application in North Vietnam, no sign has
been found that they conducted a serious search for an alternative. Indeed, there may
have existed no such alternative, using either human or technical mean s. There are
things that, in a given place at a given time, are simply impossible.

-4^

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North Vietnam: Administrative Divisions, Circa 1961-64

Ol Cartography Center MPG 7701 60 Al (G0OO95) 4-05

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Chapter One : Wh en Your Only Tool
Is a Hammer!

For five years after the Geneva Accords of
1 954 divided Vietnam at the 1 7th parallel of lat-
itude, Ho Chi Minh in the North and Ngo Dinh
Diem in the South concentrated on consolidat-
ing their respective regimes. For both of them,
eradicating actual and even potential oppo-
nents at home became major agenda items,
and neither gave much material support to his
potential allies on the other side of the Demili-
tarized Zone. For Diem, these were the Catho-
lics who had chosen to remain in the North
instead of joining the migration authorized at
Geneva. Ho Chi Minh, meanwhile, imposed a
quiescent stance on the thousands of Viet
Minh, non-communist nationalists among
them, who had not regrouped t o the n orth while
Catholics were coming south. T |

For more than a year after Diem's accession
as prime minister, the CIA in Saigon was pre-
occupied with helping him prevail over his
mostly non-communist opponents in the
South. His unexpected success encouraged
the Eisenhower administration to repudiate the
unification elections that the Geneva signato-
ries (the United States not among them) had
mandated for July 1956. Instead, Washington
would support Diem as the leader of a new
nation-state, one that faced a hostile Demo-
cratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV) across the
Demilitarized Zone. This long-term commit-
ment would demand as much intelligence as
possible on North Vietnamese and Viet Minh
capabilities and intentions, and the station
began trying to build Diem's nascent intelli-
gence and security services into cooperative

partners in the intelligence war against the
communists in both North and South. 2 f

This bilateral approach seems to have been
taken as a matter of course. And it is indeed
hard to see how an independent CIA effort,
based in South Vietnam, could have succeeded
without Government of Vietnam (GVN) partici-
pation. To begin with, the station lacked ade-
quate access to agent candidates for use
against either the southern Viet Minh or North
Vietnam. In addition, a unilateral program of any
substantial size, whatever its prospects for suc-
cess, would certainly have come to the attention
of a very prickly Ngo Dinh Diem. The station
therefore relied from the beginning on South
Vietnamese partners to acquire agents and pro-
vide facilities and administrative personnel]

Operating with the GVN had its drawbacks.
Like any authoritarian ruler, Diem fully under-
stood the potential of his security services to
be used against him by ambitious or disgrun-
tled underlings, and he chose their leaders
with attention more to personal loyalty than to
competence. This order of priority certainly
applied in the case of Tran Kim Tuyen, a phy-
sician whom Diem installed as head of the Ser-
vice for Political and Social Studies, known by
its French acronym SEPES. Not even a char-
tered intelligence organization, it was in fact
only the intelligence section of the Can Lao,
nominally a political party but essentially a
cadre organization of Diem's functionaries. But
Tuyen enjoyed the confidence of the president,
and CIA began tryin g to c ultivate a productive
working relationship.!

In what looked like a break for the station,
Tuyen's deputy, an energetic ex-Viet Minh, dis-
played none of his boss's reserve toward joint
operations. But things cooled abruptly during
his visit to Washington in late 1955 when

1 1n Vietnam; A History (Penguin Books, 1 984), Stan ley Karnow gives a good survey of the French defeat in Indochina and
the subsequent evolution of a divided Vietnam J

2 For a more nearly comprehensive history of CIA relationships with Ngo Dinh Diem and his intelligence services, see the
author's CIA and the House of Ngo: Covert Action in South Vietna m, 195 4-63 (Washington, DC: Center for the Study of
Intelligence, 2000) (hereafter House of Ngo), especially Chapter 9 j

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Al Ulmer, FE Division chief, made an extempo-
raneous and unsuccessful effort to recruit
him. 3

The resulting boost to endemic Vietnamese
xenophobia damaged the prospects of a code
gial relationship with SEPES, but Diem was
interested in it, in any case, more for domestic
surveillance than for policy-level intelligence.
Perhaps not yet recognizing Diem's intentions,
and still hoping to turn Tuyen into a productive
partner, the station bought him a motorized
fishing junk to transport personnel and sup-
plies for the nine agent nets he cl aimed to be
running in the North. Case officer

began noticing procedural anomalies in
the radio messages purportedly received from
these agents, and further investigation
revealed that the agent nets were fictitious.
The junk, it turned out, had b een leased to a
Japanese fishing firm. 4

Diem and Tuyen had also agreed to a small
joint program of minor harassment of coastal
facilities in North Vietnam, but (assuming it
was, in fact, separate from the putative agent
nets) it produced no recorded results. Indeed,
it is not clear that any such operations were
ever launched. 5

These embarrassments did not lead the station
to cut its ties with SEPES. Beginning in 1957,
however, it did insist on full access to agents
and agent communications. This painful tight-
ening of the ground rules took time to put into
effect, and when President Diem proposed
changing the SEPES harassment program to
one of intelligence collection, Chief of Station
Nicholas Natsios proposed to make a new

start, with new agent personnel. CIA would
now work also with the second of the two ser-
vices that reported directly to the president, an
army unit first called the Presidential Survey
Office and then renamed the Presidential Liai-
son Office (PLO). 6

The PLO was headed by Lt. Col. Le Quang
Tung, another Diem loyalist, whose deferential
style tended to obscure his modest profes-
sional qualifications. US support to his organi-
zation came from both the Department of
Defense and CIA, and was designed at first to
equip Diem with a guerrilla cadre capable of
operating behind the lines after a communist
invasion ol the South. Diem agreed in early
1 958 to let Natsios and Tung proceed with t his,
but again there were no recorded results. 7

A similar fate befell parallel efforts with the Mil-
itary Security Service (MSS), charged with
counterintelligence protection for the armed
forces, and with the Surete, the successor to
the French internal security organ later called
the Police Special Branch. The pattern estab-
lished with Dr. Tuyen and Col. Tung repeated
itself with the MSS, whose commander some-
how never seemed to get word in his own
channels of Diem's agreement with the COS
for joint intelligence operations against the
communists. Meanwhile, Diem accepted
advisers and material support for the Surete,
but the reward in useful intelligence was insig-
nificant. As late as 1 959, the only police report-
ing reaching the station came from low-level,
casual informants. If the Surete had any pene-
trations of the communist military or political
apparatus, it was concealing them from the
station. 8 ~

3 House ofNgo, 60. \_

* Kenneth Con boy ancTDale Andrade, Spies & Commandos: How America Lost the Secret War in North Vi etnam (Lawrence:
University Press of Kansas, 2000^1 9-20. No reference to this deception has been found in CIA records ] |

6 House of Nao. pp. 60, 1 1 8-1 9.[H
e ConbOY,20r | House of Ngo, T1"9J~ j

7 ,b ' d -IZJ — —

6 House of Ngo, 120.| |

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The End of the Honeymoon

The GVN's suppression of the Viet Minn that
began in 1 955 eventually had the effect of
unleashing a full-fledged, communist-led insur-
gency. In January 1959, answering appeals
from the leadership in the South to save it from
destruction, the Politburo in Hanoi revoked its
prohibition on armed resistance. The southern
communists now abandoned "political strug-
gle" for a policy of "armed struggle." This would
require, among other things, logistical support
from the North. Accordingly, in May, the DRV
created the 559th Transportation Group, the
military organization that eventually built the
tortuous supply line t hroug h Laos known as
the Ho Chi Minh Trail.f

But the desperate communists in the South
could not wait for supplies and men to begin
trickling in from the North. On their own, they
launched guerrilla operations and terrorist
attacks on Diem's officials that dramatically
revealed the failure of GVN repression to
destr oy th e Viet Minh staybehind organiza-
tion. 1

In January 1 960, the first communist Tet offen-
sive humiliated Diem's army and traumatized
rural administrators, driving many of them to '
the security of military outposts. At this point,
some of the younger officers in the Saigon Sta-
tion were already persuaded that, without
major GVN reforms, the influence of the Viet
Minh would only grow. Indeed, a few Ameri-
cans—Ambassador to the GVN Elbridge Dur-
brow prominent among them— had begun as
early as 1 957 to deplore Diem's indifference to
winning the consent of the governed. But even

Diem's critics seem to have shared the prevail-
ing inability to imagine spontaneous support
for a totalitarian movement. GVN derelictions
might make the peasantry vulnerable to men-
dacious communist propaganda, but the con-
ventional mindset viewed the insurgency as
having no local impetus; it was solely a crea-
ture of Hanoi. 10

This perspective led, in turn, to the inference
that the road to defeat of the Viet Cong, as the
GVN began labeling the Viet Minh, ran through
Hanoi. The insurgency would end when the
cost of supporting it rose to a level unaccept-
able to the DRV. 11

Diem seems to have shared this view. Incapa-
ble of finding any flaw in his own governing
style, he was naturally inclined to look for rem-
edies that took the war to the enemy. But at
least until late 1959, this orientation had coex-
isted with a stubborn aversion to joint covert
operations with CIA against the communists in
either North or South. At that point, it seems,
the sudden, incendiary burst of insurgent
energy persuaded hi m of th e need to take help
where he could get it.|

Whatever Diem's precise motivation, CIA in
Saigon now had the green light to work on a
basis of full reciprocity with both SEPES and
the PLO. The problem was that the GVN and
its CIA advisers were now playing catch-up
ball, especially when it came to operations
against the North. Ho Chi Minh had had five
years to consolidate the regimentation of his
country, whose borders were almost hermeti-
cally sealed off from Western-oriented neigh-
bors. The resulting dearth of the most basic

0 The most illuminating account of Diem's contest with the Viet Cong for control of the rural population is still Jeffrey Race's
War Comes to Long An (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1972). For descriptions of Diem's "Anti-Communist

Denunciation Campaign," see Rac e anc
for the Study of Intelligence, 2001)

the author's CIA and Rural Pacification In South Vietnam (Washington, DC: Center

10 The CIA perspective on the insurgency, and the Agency's contr ibution to the counterinsurgency effort later known as the

pacification program, are described in CIA and Pacification.
11 The term Viet Minh is a contraction of Viet Nam Doc Lap Dong Minh, the Vietnam Independence League, the front created
by Ho Chi Minh in 1941 to resist the Japanese occupation of Indochina. In the late 1950s, the term gradually gave way to
Viet Cong, i.e., Vietna mese Communists, a pejorative term coined by the GVN and applied mainly to the party apparatus in
South vletnam.1

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operational intelligence — identity documenta-
tion and travel controls, and the organization
and deployment of internal security forces, for
example—meant that operational planning
took place, at first, in something of a vacuum.
The first, tentative step to fill that vacuum
would come in the form of singleton agent
operations across the Demilitarized Zone.

It took a full year for the first jointly run agent to
cross the Demilitar ized Zone into N orth Viet-
nam. Code-namedf 1 he paddled

across the Ben Hai River on an inner tube just
before midnight on 5 December 1 960. His Viet-
namese case officer, hidden on the south
b ank, heard the ai r escape from the inner tube
as ] [ slashed it before burying it

and setting off on foot toward the north. The
documentation pro vided by ClA' sj

|got him through two police

challenges, and he proceeded to the nearby
town of Ho Xa before returning to South Viet-
nam the same day. 12 f

By the time agent [conducted

his first mission, South Vietnam was about to
become the testing ground of a new US com-
mitment to contain the spread of communism
in the post-colonial Third World. John F.
Kennedy had become president-elect after a
campaign featuring Republican charges that
the Democrats were "soft on communism." In
January 1961, Soviet leader Nikita Khrush-
chev proclaimed his commitment to "wars of
national liberation," and Kennedy promptly
accepted what he interpreted as a direct Soviet
challenge. Growing anxiety over the GVN's
deteriorating position meant that South Viet-
nam would now become the laboratory for US
experimentation with the new doctrines of
counterinsurgency and irregular warfare.

Only a week after his inauguration, the new
president told the National Security Council
that he wanted "guerrillas to operate in the
North," with CIA his executive agent. In March,
he inquired about progress, whether the North
Vietnamese were getting a taste of their own
medicine. They weren't, at least not yet, and
Kennedy ordered the Agency to implement his
"instructions that we make every possible effort
to launch guerrilla operations in North Vietnam
territory." 13

Not everyone familiar with such operations
thought the idea made much sense. At about
the same time that Kennedy was pressing for
results in North Vietna m, Robert Myers, then

COS in

visited Saigon. Briefing

his fellow COS on activity in Vietnam, William
Colby described the new program in which
teams of Vietnamese were dropping by para-
chute into North Vietnam. Myers, who had
watched the failure of such operations into
China in the mid-1950s, told Colby it wouldn't
work: Just as the Chinese civil war was over,
and Mao firmly established in Beijing, Ho Chi
Minh was now in charge in Hanoi. His Leninist
regime would be proof against any interlopers
wandering the countryside, collecting intelli-
gence and/or fomenting resistance. 14

Colby disagreed, arguing that suitable safe
areas could be found, at least in lightly popu-
lated areas where black teams could set up
reasonably secure bases. In retrospect, Myers
thought this a projection onto Vietnam of
Colby's OSS experience with the Jedburgh
program: "he thought it was like Norway." 15

Whatever the merits of Myers's objections,
Colby's enthusiasm matched White House
eagerness to challenge Ho Chi Minh's control
in the North. An y challenge to the future of

Project

was being made on the

12 FVSA 11886, 21 January 1961,

Conboy, 24.I |

13 Richard H. Shultz, Jr., The Secret War Against Hanoi: The Untold Story of Spies, Saboteurs, and CovertWarriors in North
Vietnam (Perennial, 2000), 17.fH

14 Robert Myers, interview by the author, Washington, DC, 24 May 2004
16 Ibid."

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North Vietnam: Black Insertions, 1961-62

other side of the world, in the form of the ill-
conceived operation to unseat Cuba's Fidel
Castro. Approved by the Eisenhower adminis-
tration and adopted by John F. Kennedy, It
came to grief at the Bay of Pigs in April 1 961 .
Even though the burgeoning CIA-supported
Hmong resistance in northeastern Laos was
then beginning to look like a major success,
the Bay of Pigs inflicted a grievous blow to the
Agency's reputation for competence in irregu-
lar warfare. 16 |

At the same time, hesitant to throw out the
baby with the bath, the administration over-
came its dismay over the Bay of Pigs suffi-
ciently to leave CIA, for the moment, in charge

of the nascent North Vietnam program.

Indeed, the president expanded Project

|modest charter as he instructed the

Agency to use its teams to conduct wide-rang-
ing unconventional warfare. At the same time,
he shrank CIA's overall responsibility with
three National Security Action memoranda,
signed in late June 1 961 , which transferred to

the Pentagon much of CIA's authori
and conduct irregular warfare. 17

y to plan

Singletons by Sea, Teams by Air (U)

What the president found a frustratingly slow
CIA response did not reflect any lack of atten-
tion to his demand for action against the DRV.
In fact, by the spring of 1961, painstaking
preparations for team operations had been
underway for almost a year. These were to be
preceded by singleton agents infiltrated into
the DRV. The agents would collect information
on the communists' security practices for use
by airborne teams dropped near their villages

Dl Carle

769687AI (G00095) 3-05

and operating out of otherwise uninhabited
safehavens. 18

16 Conboy t 35, Shultz. 21

17 lbW.[_

n Sedgwick Tourison, Secret Army, Secret War (Annapolis, MD: Naval Institute Press, 1995), 34. Subsoquont recollections
ot Saigon officers like| who interpretod the turn to airborne operations as a response t o pre ssure from the new

Kennedy administration, overlooked the tortuous logistics that preceded the first team infiltrations^

SECF7ET//MR

C05303948

SEp^TV/MR

Under tow is the sampan that \ \ would use to land in Ha Long Bay. \

The station later detailed for Headquarters
what this process entailed:

Preparations for each team included the
procurement of sterile equipment, some
of it authentic North Vietnamese items

the development of cover
stories for various contingencies,. . . the
planning of the bundles to be dropped
with each team so that they would not be
too heavy but would include everything
necessary to the mission; the
procurement. . . of old French Indochinese
silver piaster coins [and of] target area
currencies; the development ..of
reporting requirements given each team;
the assignment of control signals (and
other bona fides for use in case of

eventual contact with other. . .agents
inside the target area); the selection of
zones of operation, base zones and
general areas in which to choose drop
zones, all of which had to be worked out
as a function of the available intelligence
of the area, the locations of the homes of
the agents' relatives, and the views of the
agents themselves.... Long before, of
course, the process of spotting,
developing and organizing the agent
personnel for these missions had been
accomplished and involved the selection
of capable candidates [and] the matching
of their personalities into compatible
teams. In fact, this process was begun
almost exactly one year before the first
team was successfully dropped into
North Vietnam. » \ \

Much of the same work went into the parallel
program of singleton penetrations, and on
26 March 1 961 , the Saigon Station once again
launched agent| | landing hi

junk under cover of darkness near Dong Hoi,
not far above the DMZ. This time, he stayed
four days, observing communist police con-
trols and ^/arious minor military installations."
Still using fabricated documentation, he took a
bus south to Vinh Linh, then walked to the Ben
Hai River, crossing back into South Vietnam,
apparently again under cover of darkness. 23

The first airborne team was still waiting for a
favorable conjunction o1 weather and moon
phase when the station and Col. Tung
launched the next and more ambitious single-
ton agent operation. Transported by a motor-
ized fishing junk of the type common to the
agent ~\nbs inserted into the North

in early April 1961 . He landed on the karst-
studded coast of Ha Long Bay. east of the port

• FVSA 12657, 24 August 19 61J

*> FVSA 12181. 20 April 1961, [ Nowhereln the meager

correspondence aboul inf.ltratidn across the DMZ is there any description of the measures used to avoid discovery by DRV

security. ] |

SEC0*f//MR

C05303948

of Haiphong, and set off to find his family's
commune. There, he was supposed to recruit
someone to operate the generator for his
World War ll-era RS-1 agent radio. 21 P]

Given the uncertainties created by the need for
a second man, the station accepted that it
might be weeks before the agent came up on
the air. In fact it did n ot have long to wait. Elud-

ing discovery, | |cached his radio gear and

made his way to his family's commune, where
he persuaded his brothe r to help. After finding

a hiding place for

in the forest, the two

retrieved the gear. They then dispatched the
first of an initial series of 23 messages that
inaugurated the longest and most prolific radio
correspondence from any penetration of the
North run either by CIA or by its successor, the
Special Operations Group of the Military Assis-
tance Command/Vietnam (MACV). 22 ^

In mid-June, | _ _ [suddenly fell silent. On the
17th, miiitiamen of the Peopled Armed Security
Force (PASF) ( a rural internal security force
under the Ministry of the Interior, arrested him
and his brother for espionage. A fisherman's
discovery of the undamaged skiff used by the
agent to reach shore from the junk had led to a
search of the area and the discovery of the
holes he had used for temporary concealment
of his RS-1 radio. A house-to-house search fol-
lowed, concentrating on families with ties to the
South or the French colonial regime. Reports
from two villagers then brought the hunt to an
end. One reported seeing a stranger, living in a
beachfront house, who averted his face during
an accidental encounter. The second reported
seeing someone from the same house display-
ing a ballpoint pen, then a rarity in the DRV. 23 ^

The interruption of radio traffic could have
arisen from innumerable, mostly innocuous,

*' FVSA 12181] | Conboy, 2fr-26j |

" Conboy, 26. [_f
« Ibid., 25-26.1 ]

» Ibid.

FVSA 1 2791. 28 September 1961.

November 1 961
23 Conboy, 37.
M Conboy, 36.

>SAJ

causes, and when [ |came back on the air

some weeks later, he offered a plausible story
about DRV security measures that had forced
him out of his safehaven. Accordingly, over the
course of the next four months, the station and
its PLO partners launched at least three more
singletons by land or sea into North Vietnam.
Expectations remained modest, with survival

the agents' main goal.
for one such,

he intelligence targets
were to "be assigned
once the agent is in place depending on the
access he turns out to have." Meanwhile, as
this series of insertions began, the station
moved in late May 1961 into the airborne
phase of the program. 24

The first airborne team, dubbed CASTOR, had
been selected primarily for its prospects of sur-
vival in a remote area populated by non-Viet-
namese tribes; as with the singleton agents, its
access to important intelligence had been a
secondary consideration. But as it happened,
by the time it was ready to drop Into Son La
Province, the neighboring kingdom of Laos had
begun to crumble under communist pressure.
By happy coincidence, the team would be
located within range of Route 6, which ran
southwest into Laos, and could be tasked to
mon itor DRV support of the insurgency there. 25

Near midnight on 27 May, a twin-engine C-47
with civilian South Vietnamese markings
entered DRV airspace at a point chosen to
avoid known antiaircraft emplacements.
Piloted by Major Nguyen Cao Ky, the flamboy-
ant Vietnamese Air Force officer who later
became prime minister, then vice president, of
the GVN, the intruder proceeded at low alti-
tude, navigating by the light of the full moon. 26

FVSA 12934, 9

7/MR

Ky reported delivering Team CASTOR to the
appointed drop zone, and the station waited
with increasing anxiety for the first radio contact.
Not until 29 June did the team break its silence,
but it then came on the air with a reassuring
account of early difficulties now resolved. A
relieved Saigon Station accepted the rationale,
and promised an immediate supply drop. 27

In fact, CASTOR had come under enemy con-
trol only four days after its 27 May landing. Its
arrival had been compromised, first by a radar
installation located under its flight path over
Moc Chau District, and'then by reports from
alarmed villagers reacting to the unprece-
dented noise of an aircraft passing at night
over their remote hamlets. The drop zone, fur-
thermore, lay only a kilometer from one of
these villages. Having quickly pinpointed CAS-
TOR'S location, the PASF needed only three

days to surrounc
without a fight, 26

the team, which surrendered

Meanwhile, unaware of this disaster, CIA and
the PLO launched Team ECHO on 2 June.
This drop, well to the southeast of CASTOR,
also went according to plan. The crew, confi-
dent of its navigation to the drop zone, saw all
personnel and cargo chutes open, and the
insertion looked like a success. But, as with
CASTOR, the drop was followed by three
weeks of silence, and, when ECHO finally
came on the air, it provoked concern by using
an improper call sign. Managers of the covert
communications facility suggested that this .
"could be attributed to nervousness" at the first
contact, but they wanted reassurance that the
"crypto control signals" had been properly
used. If not, the team's security was suspect,
even though the message's 'list print"-- an
operator's characteristic style of operating the

key—indicated that ECHO'S operator had in
fact transmitted it. 2& | |

The possibility that the operator was working
under enemy control seems not at first to have
been explicitly addressed. This omission
delayed serious consideration of what turned
out to be the fact, for DRV security had already
taken Team ECHO into custody. Like Team
CASTOR, it had landed near a village, in this
case so close to it that the participants at a
night political indoctrination session saw the C-
47 silhouetted against the moon. Its first mes-
sage, on 23 June, had been the only one not
sent under enemy control. By that time, the
team knew that it had been compromised; it
was captured while fleeing toward the Laotian
border, 30 n

By early July, Headquarters beginning to worry
about the tardy first broadcasts from CASTOR
and ECHO, and ECHO then provoked further
worries with its silence, after the first contact on
23 June, for exactly a month. A third team,
DIDO, had been dropped into Lai Chau Prov-
ince in the northwest on 29 June, where it was
to supplement CASTOR'S anticipated cover-
age of traffic into Laos. Washington asked
whether it, like the others, had been instructed
to co me o n the air within three days of land-
ing, 31

Presumably it had, but Team DIDO had lasted
only about four weeks before joining its compa-
triots in detention. Unable at first to find the
bundle containing its radio, the team combed
the hills looking for it until they encountered a
PASF patrol and were captured. Thus, by the
en d of July , all three airdropped teams, as well
were in North Vietnamese hands. 32

27 Ibid ,. 36-4Q

2T
29

"STSeplember 1961.
30 Juno 1961 r

FVSA 12657

Con boy, 26, 38. Presumably either faulty intelligence or faulty navigation, or a combination thereof/accounts for the
frequent drops— if Conboy's informants are co rrect— of black entry teams onto populated areas, but nothing has been
discovered tha t illuminates this question ]

Conboy, 39.|

]S July 1961,

JFVSA12657.| I

C05303948

T//WIR

Jud gment by Preponderance of Evidence

□

Headquarters' query about DIDO (no answer
to it has been found) may well have been pro-
voked by the loss of the aircraft trying to drop
supplies to Team CASTOR. On 1 July, It had
entered DRV airspace, then simply disap-
peared. Subsequent correspondence between
Headquarters and the station focused on the
tension between the urgent necessity of sup-
plying viable teams and the risk that such mis-
sions might send aircraft and their crews to
destruction. I

The station, concerned not to abandon starv-
ing teams-— and perhaps just viscerally reluc-
tant to admit possible failure— wanted to
employ a permissive standard for approval of
supply missions. Responding on 25 July,
Headquarters noted that Hanoi radio had
revealed its possession of "much info re all
teams/* The field should, therefore, assume
that the "enemy may be preparing apprehen-
sion ops." Nevertheless, having reviewed the
available info on all three teams, "particularly
CASTOR," Headquarters accepted the pro-
posed criterion: in the absence of "c onclusiv e
eviden ce" of enemy control, all three
teams should be supplied. 33

Headquarters may not have known, at this
point, about the tardy second transmission by
Team ECHO, on 23 July, the one that first gave
the station "strong indication that the... team
may be under the control of the opposition."
The main object of Washington's attention was
still CASTOR, as Headquarters noted on 28
July. Direction-finding (DF) analysis of CAS-
TOR transmissions indicated Its radio to be
sited considerably northeast of the team's
reported bivouac, and the station acknowl-

edged that, if the team was not doubled, it was
certainly "extremely hot." But Saigon ques-
tioned the utility of resolving the issue of bona
fides by demanding more Intelligence report-
ing. The DRV could easily feed the team, with-
out any significant damage to national security,
any information it could reasonably be
expected to collect. And if pressed for more,
CASTOR'S putative DRV handlers would have
the team present the entirely plausible argu-
ment that its parlous security situation pre-
cluded more aggressive collection efforts. 34

The available evidence allowed continued
hope that CASTOR was still viable, but Team
ECHO was another matter. Its bona fides were
now "dubious," at best, the result of continuing
anomalies in its message traffic that suggested
a surreptitious effort by the radio operator to
indicate hostile control. In early August, the
station proposed ordering ECHO to exfiltrate
as a way of testing its freedom. But the fact
remained that it had lost one of its four men
even before launch, when he was dismissed
after what the station called a breach of secu-
rity. And the team had reported injuries to
another as he hit the ground. The remaining
two, hobbled by their injured comrade, would
be able to do little. And even if it was still clean,
the team was "almost as hot as CASTOR." 35

The station announced on 1 August that CAS-
TOR would get a supply drop that night. Some-
thing must have prevented it, for two days later
Headquarters proposed a moratorium oh sup-
ply missions to that team while everyone
stepped back to have a iook at the whole pro-
gram. Acknowledging the station's immense
effort to do something about North Vietnam,
Washington acknowledged a "strong reserva-
tion" about the utility of infiltration efforts, at

» | | 21 July 1961,

amiimenlJAjinplictt In Hea dquarters' rep1y.[ |

3 j |28 July 1961 J

]The substance ol the station's

^VSA 12657; SAIG 4120, 1 August 1961,

By mid-September, t he station concluded that the ECHO radio operator had Indeed consciousl y sig naled

having corne under enemy control

least those by air "In all probability ECHO is
compromised. DIDO's status is doubtful
because ot [the team's] complete silence."
Regarding CASTOR, Headquarters still saw
just two alternatives: force it to produce posi-
tive intelligence or, failing that, order it to exfil-
trate. The station should levy detailed
requirements on roads, and ground and air
traffic. The team should also be told that
another try at a supply flight wou ld have to wait
for the next moon phase, 30 [

Saigon did not respond, apparently, to the invi-
tation to evaluate the entire program. It did
agree to send intelligence requirements, but
told Headquarters not to expect too much from
CASTOR, "due necessity avoid capture"
Washington had at this point already sugr
gested an alternative to Insertion by parachute,
telling the field of a "new approach" to North
Vietnamese operations that would make use of
the Hmong irregulars then being armed in
northeastern Laos. These, under their charis-
matic leader Major Vang Pao, were now edg-
ing toward the border with the DRV's Son La
Province, in which Team CASTOR was operat-
ing. If the Hmong could continue their
progress, their forward locations might serve
as launch points for overland infiltration of
teams into the DRV's mountainous north-
west. 37 Q

Meanwhile, whatever the level of skepticism at
Headquarters, CIA would continue to rely on air-
dropped teams for intelligence on inland DRV
targets. But by mid-August 1961, although
DIDO had finally come up on the air, none of the
three teams in place had produced any signifi-
cant Intelligence. Headquarters suggested forc-
ing the pace, getting them to move Into the
planned second phase of operations by orga-
nizing and directing intelligence nets. Like
Washington, the station implicitly accepted— at

least for the purposes of this discussion—the
teams' freedom from enemy control when it
again cautioned against expecting too much too
soon. All three teams, "despite understandable
difficulties," were just approaching the second
phase. It was thus "premature to judge defini-
tively either their value or loyalty." 38

In addition, Saigon felt obliged to "take excep-
tion" to Headquarters 1 proposed creation of
"safe zones," In which the teams would organize
a tribal resistance to Incursion by DRV security
forces. Such an effort would be "quickly mopped
up." The station insisted, therefore, that teams
"living clandestinely" conduct any active pro-
gram of sabotage and harassment. 39 ] I

The debate continued, always under the tacit
hypothesis that the three teams were free of
hostile control. On 17 August, Headquarters
noted that all had been chosen explicitly for
parachute drop into areas that were home to
friends and relatives, and wondered why con-
tact with these people would be more secure
after a month in hiding than after a few days. "It
could be argued that the reverse is true since
the longer the delay between arrival and con-
tact the more the necessity for air resupply."
And the suggestion about "safe areas" had
assumed their location in "are as difficult for
DRV forces to assault" 40 | |

This cable, released by the acting chief of FE
Division, revealed the pressures on the
Agency to get results: "Would again empha-
size interest very high levels [in Washington in]
positive action realized thru [joint station-PLO
team] ops North Vietnam." This pressure
doubtless encouraged the station's eagerness
to supply teams CASTOR and DIDO. DIDO
had been assessed as the best of the three
teams during training, and Saigon wanted to
run the "calculated risk" entailed in supplying it

C05303948

with food and radio batteries. DIDO's second
and third messages had provided a "reason-
able explanation" for the team's six-weeks'
silence, and the station thought other minor
anomalies inconclusive. These included the
strength of the radio signal and conflicting tes-
timony about the initial drop: the aircrew had
reported that all parachutes opened, while
DIDO was now claiming that one cargo chute
had failed. 41 1 |

The request for a supply mission to CASTOR
also looked at the bright side of things. The sta-
tion and its Vietnamese partners had done a
counterespionage analysis which u indicate[df
that the team's security was "not compromised
to date." Except for inconclusive DF results,
the "commo aspects" of the operation were
"favorable on the whole." True, if the crew of
the downed supply flight had been captured, it
could have given DRV security valuable infor-
mation, but steps had been taken, by "chang-
ing the resupply route and team location," to
neutralize this threat. The likelihood that the
aircrew had pinpointed the CASTOR drop
zone, and thus the vicinity of its operating
base, was not addressed. 42 f

The cable offering this rationale crossed with a
message from Headquarters with more bad
news about CASTOR. A "preliminary study" of
its message traffic indicated that the team was
not using the only source of power dropped
with it, the GN-58 hand-cranked generator. If
further analysis were to confirm this finding,
CASTOR would ha ve to be judged as almost
certainly doubled. 43

Headq uarters wanted it s communications
base in | \ o come up with a defin-

itive answer by 21 August, but nothing in the

surviving record reveals what, if any, reply it
received. One can only infer that the issue -
remained* at worst, unresolved, for on that day,
Headquarters approved su pply m issions to
both CASTOR and DlD0. 44 [|

Father to the Thought

Whatever the obstacles — mechanical, commu-
nications, or weather— these drops were not
made. Meanwhile, Headquarters and the sta-
tion were negotiating the terms of a progress
report to the inter-agency Vietnam task fo rce in
Washin gton. One section was to deal with

}eam operations in the North, and Wash

ington thought Saigon's upbeat assessment of
their security too categorical: "Can we state with

as much certainty as [you] indicate th at al
teams [are] free of enemy control?" 45

four

The four teams, unnamed in Headquarters'
cable, must have been the three infiltra ted by
air— CASTOR, ECHO, and DIDO— and

the singleton who had at this point reported the
recruitment of several informants. As it had
done with the first approval of supply missions,
Headquarters now chose to give the task force
the most optimistic possible interpretation of
the teams' security. It changed the field's sec-
ond submission, apparently still a little too rosy,
but managed a reassuring tone for its inter-
agency partners: "Lacking firm evidence to the
contrary, all four teams appear to be free of
DRV control ." 46 | |

The suggestion that only conclusive evidence
could create even the appearance of enemy
control defied FE Division's own analyses of
the three teams inserted by airdrop. The kind
of evasive logic-chopping to which Headquar-

41 JM

■15

SaigoiVs side of this

C05303948

IC>»

• <«

Map showing the geographical range of reported agents, ca. 1962

ters resorted here invited a skeptical response
even from readers unfamiliar with the opera-
tional correspondence, but there is no record
that anyone accepted the challenge. With
Agency officers and the policymakers both
intent on getting results, a really cold-eyed look
at events on the ground was not in the cards.

Nevertheless, there were too many indications
of trouble for the issue to go away, and the
cycle of alternating doubt and optimism contin-
ued. On 7 September 1961. Team ECHO sent
a dear-text message that said, "already
arrested." It repeated the same message the
next day. But the station made no mention of
this when on the 18th it responded in charac-
teristically ambivalent fashion to another
expression of Headauarters' nagging doubts,

The station said it "fully
[nor any

this time about
concurs" that "neilfier

" FVSW 7393, 12 April 1963.
■ SAIG 4a6Sj |
*lbki.

other... agent op is or has been above suspi-
cion." It accepted Washington's criteria as
'Valid to consider in [a] balanced evaluation of
agent performance and control"; as such, they
were being duly "noted and. . . considered." 47

But the available information provided the
basis, in the station's view, for no more than an
"educated guess as to whether [the operations
were] enemy-controlled or not." Even with
ECHO, suspect from the very beginning, the
station thought it proper to have given it the
benefit of the doubt. Urging the team to exfil-
trate and applying "other challenges and tests"
saved time otherwise wasted in the "prepara-
tion and dispatch to Hqs [of] lengthy but pre-
mature and inconclusive CE analyses." 4

The station went on to defend what it again
described as its "educated guess" that ARES
remained free of hostile control. The agent
himself, it noted, had reported events — like the
DRV's discovery of the skiff in which he had
landed — that suggested a compromise of
security. It interpreted Hanoi radio broadcasts
about this and other evidence of clandestine
agent activity as incompatible with] ~|hav-

ing been captured and doubled. The real prob-
lem, as Saigon saw it, was the agent's
reporting that he and his relatives were "hot."
This meant not only the continuing danger of
arrest but a support network priODled even if its
members avoided capture. 48

The cable concluded with a pro forma — even
patronizing — bow to Headquarters' concerns
about team security:

[While we] appreciate Hqs frequently
helpful reminders of points to consider,
also hope it apparent we not neglecting
[to] analyze these ops on continuing
basis. Hope this can eliminate lengthy

SAIG 4855] |

C05303948

SEcaeraviR

cable exchanges ofCE and analyses and
judgments [based on the] limited material
available to date [in order] to permit full
concentration on development of other
ops.\

A marginal comment on this prescription indi-
cated the sense of at least one Headquarters
officer that the two parties were now talking
past each other: "And that, 'dear Hqs.\ is
that!" 50

Under Enemy Control

Headquarters did not ask whether it made good
professional sense to launch new operations
without first resolving security questions about
the old. On 1 9 September 1 961 , just a day after
hearing Saigon's complaint about excessive
attention to the control issue, it approved a sup-
ply mission for Team CASTOR. It appears, how-
ever, that this reluctant decision was not carried
out. Whatever caused the mission to be
scrapped, the outcome was fortunate for the air-
crew that would have flown it; as we have seen,
CASTOR had come under enemy control only
four days after its 27 May landing. 51

In the ensuing two months, ambiguous— and
sometimes not so ambiguous— signs of trou-
ble had led the Agency to write off only Team
ECHO as probably under enemy control. Even
in the case of ECHO, the Saigon Station har-
bored some hope that the anomalies in its
message traffic would turn out to be innocu-
ous. Meanwhile, Hanoi began a meticulous
counterespionage operation designed to con-
vince the s tation and Col. Tung of the teams'
bona fides.

60 ibid.

|19 September 1961,

The public trial in November of the survivors of
the 1 July supply mission to Team CASTOR
meant that any DR effort to exploit that opera-
tion would challenge Saigon's credulity. Some
members of the aircrew might well have known
little about their destination, but as it happened,
the pilot was among the three survivors, and he
would necessarily have had full knowledge of
the plane's destination and mission. 52

At their trial, the survivors acknowledged their
role in supplying guerrilla operations. But their
published testimony said they had given as
their destination a remote spot in Hoa Binh
Province, far from CASTOR in Son La. The
likelihood that all three, presumably interro-
gated separately, had managed to improvise a
coherent story that satisfied their captors must
even at the time have seemed remote. Never-
theless, whatever their residual doubts, CIA
officers in both Saigon and Headquarters
accepted CASTOR'S credentials, and planning
began for a second supply mission. 53

While deploring the loss of the C-47 and its
crew, the station found cause for celebration in
the resulting uproar about internal security in
the DRV. Hanoi radio broadcasts were blasting
"'reactionary' elements among ethnic minori-
ties," and appealing to "mountain people" to
cooperate with security forces. Saigon attrib-
uted all this to the information derived from
interrogations of the surviving CASTOR air-
crew personnel and of Team ECHO, whose
capture Hanoi had now announced. Black
entry operations, even when rolled up, were
thus "exactly the type [of] harassment" by
which the station was "seeking to force [the]
DRV to dissipate its assets on [its] own internal
security in remote areas [of North Vietnam] ,
and thus decrease its subversive efforts in
South Vietnam." 54

anning or the cancellation of this supply flight has survived
52 Ibid., 43; Tourison, 44. Tourison says the 1 July supply flighta

elsewhere in a new.ooeration whose locale he does not specify.

83 Conboy, 43-44.!

84 SAIG 6562, 18 December 1961,

No reporting on either the
so carried a team that was to have been airdropped

SEC

CIA in Saigon offered additional evidence to
support its view of a Hanoi regime under
stress. A British expert on Indochina, Profes-
sor P. J. Honey, had just evaluated its condition
as "precarious," and a Saigon newspaper
wrote about a 24 November piece in the com-
munist daily Nhan Dan, which acknowledged
for the first time that "enemy social foundations
still exist, while ours are very weak." Hanoi

press and radio were pressing their campaign
to mobilize the populace against Diemist spies
and saboteurs, and a message from Team
CASTOR indicated that it and other agent
teams were forcing the DRV to divert
resources to beef up internal security. As of
late 1961, It looked to CIA as if its teams were
operating on fertile ground, 55 T

65 SAIG 6709, 30 December 1 961 ,

C05303948

Chapter Two:

A More Ambitious Agenda

It could have been argued— and later was
argued— that airborne and maritime harass-
ment operations, even if successtul at the tac-
tical level, might not deter the southern
Insurgency, but instead spur the Politburo in
Hanoi to accelerate its campaign to annex the
South, whence all the trouble was emanating.
But the emotional climate of the moment did
not encourage such speculation. On the con-
trary, it seemed a matter of common sense,
both In Saigon and at Headquarters, not only to
infiltrate more teams,, but to assign them pro-
gressively more ambitious missions. Replying
in early December to what must have been an
expression of concern about insufficiently
aggressive tasking, Saigon offered this reas-
surance:

We [are] not locating, recruiting, training,
dispatching and directing. . . teams
[merely] to obtain tow level or even high
level [order of battle intelligence]. We
certainly include OB in specific missions
but... [we] have emphasized potential
resistance, contacts with families to build
up intel assets, examination of potential
harassment targets such as roads,
reports of political controls, attitude of

population, etc.

The station balanced this guarantee of an
aggressive program with an acknowledgement
that the teams' performance was up to that
point "far from outstanding." It reminded Head-
quarters of earlier stipulations of the "limited
results" to be expected from team operations,

and suggested that the only reason for pursu
ing them was the "absence [of] other means to
approach [our] targets." 1

The implication was that one used the means
at hand to satisfy a policy requirement, how-
ever ill-adapted those means might be to
achieving the objective . By this permissive
standard, it was easy to justify a proposed air
infiltration into Hoa Binh Province, in the moun-
tains west of Hanoi, by another team of hill
tribesmen. Dubbed EUROPA, the new team
would use the usual modus operandi, para-
chuting to a safehaven from which it would
emerge to contact trusted relatives and friends
and evaluate the area's resistance potential.
The station restrained its enthusiasm for this
particular venture: M We cannot make [a] pas-
sionate plea for tremendous strategic potential
[in the] EUROPA area." On the other hand, "we
can [make such a claim] for our presently pro-
jected program of one team per month to give
us general geographic coverage of North Viet-
nam." With more teams in place, the operation
would move into Phase II, a program about
which the station said only that it would be sup-
plemented by leaflet drops presumably aimed
at stimulating discontent with the regime. 3

Headquarters was apparently hoping, at the
end of 1961, that more rigorous targeting
would help conserve scarce resources, but the
station saw no immediate potential in a more
selective approach, it saw itself as limited to
the agent personnel, mostly drawn from the hill
tribes, supplied it by Col. Tung, and these
agents had reasonable prospects of surviving
only where they could find sympathetic local
contacts. Saigon was indeed "well aware of
special areas and groups, and [was] following
up all possible leads." But rather than await the

1 SAI<3_£2,85, 2 December 1961,

2 Ibid.

3 Ibid. This cable alludes to a dispatch outlining the station's program that, judging by its number, was sent in mid-August
1 961 . The cable refers to planned activity In three phases, the second of which included leaflet drops. The third presumably
introduced some kind of organized resistance to communist rule J lAlso see Con boy, 45, reference to EUROPA as
composed of "Muong," a possible rendering of the tribe called "Hmong.'f"

C05303948

SEprfET^R

Infiltration junk Nautilus I Q^]

results of a "definitive study, n it was proceeding
with the agent material at hand. 4 |j

Team DIDO, launched in late June 1961,
greeted the New Year with two messages say-
ing that it was transmitting under duress.
Again, it appears that the station was too pre-
occupied with other business to pay much
attention. While preparing new operations, it
had also to service those agents and teams in
place whose bona fides it saw no reason to
question. »| |

One such effort involved! | Inserted by

junk, he would be supplied the eame way. On
the night of 14 January 1962, the junk code-
named Nautilus / crept up among the karst
islands sprinkled along the upper reaches of
the Gulf of Tonkin. The crew was unloading the
first of 27 cases of supplies into a dinghy, for
deposit on shore, when a North Vietnamese
patrol boat, apparently lying in wait, brought
the operation to an end. a | |

The interruption of radio contact with Nautilus I
and the junk's failure to return forced the sta-
tion and its Vietnamese counterparts to con-
sider the possibility that I [ was under
enemy control. But it seemed to them more
likely that the supply mission had fallen victim
either to bad weather— -it turned foul four days
after the junk's departure— or to a routine
coastal patrol. Nevertheless, when a replace-
ment junk, Nautilus II, left Da Nang mid- April
for another try, | ^as informed of the mis-
sion only after the junk was safely back in port.
He subsequently radioed that he had recov-
ered all 30 bundles from the cache site on a
small, uninhabited island in Ha Long Bay. With
the apparent success of this mission, Col.
Tung's office — renamed the Presidential Sur-
vey Office (PSO) after the downed aircrew's
trial exposed the PLO label— and CIA again
accepted the agent's bona fides. 7 [ |

Stepping Up the Pace

Meanwhile, airborne operations had been
suspended until the station acquired a more

4 SAIG 6562. 1 L

• FVSW 7393TTJ

• S AIG 7080. 24 January 1 962, retyped in undated draft memorandum.^

Tounson, 47-48. Tourtson bases his account of the 1 96 2 supply mission on a postwar interview with a Nsutius I
crewman, who said he was visited by in prison. Wearing a "fancy watch" and allowed to smoke.

said he knew the prison commander and was visiting oy permission The crewman concluded that

permission Th<

of theirs all along, a double agent." It seems more likely that) was
Tourison

1 Conboy, 27 j [ SAIG 901 2. 29 April 1 962. retyped in undated draft memorandum,

an aiong^a a

ISoventee
_a revised H

was a "traitor one
operating in good faith unfit after his capture. (See

een DRV travel documents wore fabricated tor the supply mission, 16 for the junk and its crew
evised Haiphong travel permit to be used with his Haiphong basic identity document. (FVSA 1 3283. 2 February

SEC^f//MR

£05303948

SECRBT//MR

suitable aircraft. The limited range of the twin-
engine C-47 required both a refueling stop at
Da Nang, on the coast in Central Vietnam,
and perilously direct routes to drop zones in
the northwestern DRV. CIA officers attributed
the July 1961 loss of theCASTOR supply
plane at least partly to these factors, and addi-
tional supply missions and team insertions
were, therefore, put on hold while CIA negoti-
ated with the US Air Force for a four-engine
DC-4. B

Nguyen Cao Ky, now a lieutenant colonei,
recruited new South Vietnamese Air Force
pilots, and when the first DC-4 arrived at about
the end of December 1961, an Air America
team trained them in nighttime low-level flying
and navigation. When the crews were ready,
the station and PSO chose to launch Team
EUROPA before moving to supply CASTOR. 9

The launch did not take place without still
another policy hiccup over the proportionality
between means and ends. On 11 January
1 962, Headquarters informed Saigon that, in
view of the "doubtful results this small effort
can achieve," EUROPA was disapproved. The
same cable welcomed a discussion of the
rationale for all such operations during an
Imminent visit by COS Bill Colby, a visit that
must have resulted in a change of heart, for a
second cable on 15 February gave EUROPA
the green light. 10

Once again, Ky commanded the aircraft, rely-
ing on his ability to spot moonlit checkpoints on
the ground as he navigated a circuitous route
to the drop zone. All went well, it seemed to Ky,
but in fact the area below was dotted with vil-

lages. According to Hanoi's published interro-
gation report of one member, the team was
spotted while still descending. Within two days,
the PASF had every man in custody. Having
captured the agent radio along with its opera-
tor, the communists promptly launched a
deception oper ation sim ilar to those al ready

under way with

and CASTOR. 11

On 12 March, EUROPA came up on the air,
assuring Saigon that the team was "safe and
sound." An effort to drop supplies to the team
had to be scrubbed when radio contact was
lost, but the station assessed the communica-
tions failure as probably the result of bad
weather. As of early June, it told Headquarters,
the team's radio messages, including safety
signals, were in order, and there was "no rea-
son to believe [the] team doubled." 12

The apparent success of EUROPA encouraged
the station to proceed with a supply mission to
CASTOR. Ky and his crew having flown the last
mission, a second crew manned the DC-4 for
the flight to Son La. Once again, CASTOR and
its North Vietnamese masters waited in vain.
Caught in a rainstorm not far from the drop
zone, the pilot lost his bearings and crashed into
a mountain. But intercepted North Vietnamese
communications gave no sign of an alert. The
station inferred that Hanoi was unaware of the
flight, and evaluated CASTOR'S security as
unaffected by the disaster. 13

The station's faith in the bona fides of Team
CASTOR was at this point fully restored, and
plans were underway to reinforce it with
another team, to be called TOURBILLON, that
would give it a serious capacity for sabotage
and harassment. Meanwhile, the station made

0 Ibid., 44
program. BuT

C-54 was the military designation for the Douglas DC-4, and is used in much CIA correspondence on the
he civilian nomenclature appears in some traffic, suggeslinq that the plane was configured to match the cover

story under whic h it was leased
* SAIG 65621 | Conboy, 44-5.
10 SAIG 34570711 January 1962
n Conboy, 45.r |
, a FVSA 13612727 April 1962

ojiSouth Vietnamese entrepreneur
15 February 1962 j

SAIG 9993, 9 June 1962,

ar 1bigi pConpoy,45| | The date of the attempted supply drop to CASTOR is not known. | |

SECRET//MR

the first use of Laotian territory to insert a team
into the DRV. On 12 March, after reconnais-
sance by a small fixed-wing aircraft, the heli-
copter descended onto the drop zone on the
Laotian side of the border, adjacent to the prov-
Ince of Nghe An in the southern DRV. 14

The four members of Team ATLAS— appar-
ently all ethnic Vietnamese — headed east
toward their target, a village where they were
to seek out two Catholic priests known for their
anti-communist fervor. After four days of unob-
served movement, they suddenly encountered
a small boy, who upon seeing them disap-
peared into the forest. Soon thereafter, local
militia arrived, and the team fled back toward
Laos. One man was fatally shot, and another
died when he stepped on a mine. The survi-
vors managed to assemble their radio and
report their plight, but were soon captured. Not
until the two survivors' later public trial did the
station learn that they had been in the hands of
the PASF since 5 April. 15

However powerful the urge to believe in their
teams' survival in enemy territory, the station
and its PSO counterparts did not ignore
"repeated danger and/or duress signals" from
Teams DIDO and ECHO. By early April 1962,
both were assumed to be under enemy control,
and Saigon concentrated on turning their
enemy-controlled communications back upon
the North Vietnamese. One ploy began with the
assumption that both teams were still intact,
even though controlled. Orders to them to head
for the Laotian border would test the willingness
of their handlers to move them west in order to
prevent Saigon's RDF capability from revealing
a failure to comply. If the teams got lucky, in this
process— they would have to be very lucky—
they might manage to escape. 1 ^

The second ploy also looked like a counsel of
desperation. It had been launched with a mes-
sage to DIDO that alluded to "friendly ele-
ments" in the border area and tasked the team
to report on them. Later messages were to
mention the team's proposed assignment,
after exfiltration, to train new teams at project
headquarters. The station seems to have been
wishing for a North Vietnamese nibble at this
offer of a penetration of the Saigon office, but
stipulated that it had "no illusions about the
likelihood of success in exfiltrating either
team." 17 ^

With little hope for DIDO and even less for
ECHO, the station concentrated on its plans for
new insertions. On 1 6 April 1 962, the six Black
Thai tribesmen of Team REMUS parachuted
onto a drop zone in Laotian territory some 15
kilometers northwest of Dien Bien Phu. The
team landed unobserved, retrieved its gear,
and crept across the border. Some of the food
bundles dropped with the team were dam-
aged, and REMUS almost immediately called
for a supply drop. The station complied, but the
team's gastronomic requirements caused
some heartburn at Headquarters, which com-
plained about the unrealistic expectations rep-
resented by a request for "chicken and duck
'done to a golden tint.'" 18 "

An Appearance of Success

With the insertion of Team REMUS, the station
had what it considered four viable teams,
including ARES, reporting from North Vietnam.
It was now just over a year since President
Kennedy had called for "guerrilla operations"
there, and CIA was feeling the heat. It was not
just the modest number of teams in place, but
their failure to engage in any significant harass-

M FVSA 13612

15 FVSA 136121 ]Conboy,47.

16 FVSA 13612, me idea looks even more fanciful injight of SAIG 6562 of 18 December 1961, in which the station had
categorically described Team ECHO as "captured."^

r/ lbid.| |
18 Conboy, 50.

[~~~1See

28 May 1962,

C05303948

ment or sabotage, that suggested a major gap
between mandate and performance. 19 f

It was in this climate that Secretary of Defense
Robert McNamara and Commander-in-Chief
Pacific (CINCPAC) Adm. Harry Felt visited
Saigon in May 1 962. In its sessions with them,
the station found itself defending its modest
progress in the DRV. Pointing to bad weather
as the biggest deterrent to accelerating the
pace of infiltration, Chief of Station Colby also
justified the intelligence emphasis in the task-
ing of existing teams. They needed information
on local conditions and targets, he said, as a
framework for the "harassment and diversion"
operations that remained their main charter.
The station and PSO were preparing 15 more
teams for insertion by the end of July; all of
these would prepare the way for the subse-
quent addition of sabotage personnel and
equipment. 20

McNamara expressed what the station called
his "full support" for its activities and plans. But
he drew a clear distinction between small-
scale CIA-sponsored harassment operations
and "possible larger efforts of [a] military
nature." In so doing, he implicitly asserted the
dominant military role in unconventional war-
fare that President Kennedy had assigned to
the Pentagon after the failure at the Bay of Pigs
in April 1 961 . Against a background of f rustrat-
ingly slow Agency progress, the prospect of
Pentagon-run operations against the North
was now, in the station's words, "more open." 21

Meantime, military support to CIA operations
would continue, and two admirals working for

Adm. Felt concurred with an Agency request
for submarine reconnaissance of possible tar-
gets for a maritime raid on Swatow-class gun-
boats of the DRV's little navy. Also, having lost
a team to enemy action along Route 7, leading
into northeastern Laos, the station was press-
ing to get ready a new team of Hmong to para-
chute into the DRV near the Laotian border. Its
members would recruit fellow Hmong In the Lai

Chau area, then lead them out to
training and eventual return. 22

.aos for

Teams TOURBILLON and EROS

The COS had been right about the weather as
an inhibiting factor. When he conferred with
Secretary McNamara and Adm. Felt on
12 May, the aircraft carrying sabotage Team
TOURBILLON, slated to join Team CASTOR,
had already aborted three missions when it
encountered heavy storms. Finally, in a DC-4
flown b y a veteran aircrew of|

TOURBILLON's seven men reached the

drop zone on the night of 17 May. 23

Waiting below was a company or more of
PASF militia, who had set out the flame pots as
specified in the instructions to Team CASTOR.
But the descending guerrillas encountered
strong winds that blew them away from the
drop zone, and the PASF set off in pursuit.
Their first quarry was the assistant team
leader, caught in a tree on landing, who was
shot and killed in his harness when he fired on
them. The others were surrounded and cap-
tured within two days. 24

sec^eI^ivir

w SA1G 9297. 12 May 1962,
20 lbid.^
" Ibid.

National Security Action Memorandum ot 28 June 1 961 specified that any paramilitary operation "wholly covert
or disavowable, maybe assigned to OA, provided that it is within the normal capabilities of the agency" (emphasis added).
Any operation, "wholly or partially covert," requiring "significant numbers of militarily trained personnel, (and] amounts of
military equipment," would "exceed CIA-controlled" capabilities, and would be run by the Department of Defense with CIA
"in a supportinaioJe." (See Schulz, 21 .)f

22 SAIG 9297.
™ Ibid.; FVSA

» Conboy. 49j

17604, 6 July 1964

Conboy, 48-49.

SECWET//MR

DRV security elected to conceal the capture
while it exploited the team's radio operator and
gear to launch another deception operation.
According to one survivor, interviewed after the
war, Saigon had ordered Team TOURBILLON
to come up on the air within two days. Given its
expected reception by CASTOR, it should
need no time to find a refuge, and initial contact
delayed for more than 48 hours would be taken
as evidence of enemy control. In fact, accord-
ing to the same survivor, it took the North Viet-
namese 11 days to get the team's radio
operator on the air with his first message. 25

The record is mute on this point, but it is clear
that, despite the delay, Saigon accepted
TOURBILLON's bona fides. The station
reported the team's reception by the leader of
CASTOR and the loss of one man, which
TOURBILLON had called an accident. As of 20
June, Saigon accepted that TOURBILLON .
was scouting potential sabotage targets along
Route 41. 29 |_/

Meanwhile, on 20 May, Team EROS dropped
into Thanh Hoa Province, just east of the Lao-
tian border in the upper panhandle. This inser-
tion seems to have escaped PASF attention,
and the five men — Hmong and Red Thai
dropped into an area that was home to both
tribes— set up a hidden bivouac. They were
then supposed to contact tribal brethren, but
lost their nerve, it seems, and when some Red
Thai villagers stumbled upon their encamp-
ment, they fled north. The discovery of food
cans with foreign brand names triggered a
search by both PASF and army units. After two
weeks, they had f ound nothing, and the hunt
was suspended. 27

On 20 June, EROS reported fearing that it had
been compromised. DRV security was cover-
ing the vicinity of the cache site, and the team
was being, as the station reported it, "closely
tracked." Short of food, EROS asked for sup-
plies, which Saigon promised for July. No drop
took place, and Saigon radioed the team that
bad weather was to blame. 28

Left to its own devices, the team ventured out
in a search for food. On 2 August, villagers
spotted it once again. Security forces resumed
their search, and a panicked Team EROS
managed only to report the renewed pursuit
before it went off the air. On 29 September, the
PASF surrounded the team, killing one guer-
rilla and capturing a second. Three others
escaped to the border, where they joined a
party of Lao hunters until their h osts b etrayed
them to the North Vietnamese. 29

Operation VULCAN

Resident teams, living black, represented one
of the two possibilities for surreptitious action
against DRV military facilities. The other
involved maritime hit-and-run raids, using
techniques earlier employed against China, in
the early years of communist rule there, and
against the regime in Pyongyang, during the .
Korean war. President Kennedy's repeated
demand for action against the DRV required
exploiting all the resources at hand, and these
included, in the spring of 1962, 18 South Viet-
namese wh o had been trained in underwater
demolitions! For a target, CIA chose

the DRV naval base at Quang Khe, which lay
on the Gianh River some 40 kilometers north of
Dong Hoi, the town nearest the DMZ. 30

25 Ibid.

» FVSAT7604; FVSA 13986. 27 July 1 962,
27 Conboy, 49-50 "

28 Blind me morandum,

jOperattons," "Date of Info: 20 June 1962,"

- T - 7 I — (- I — - ■ — -— r l . . ....... - ...

FVSA 13986] [Conb oy. 50 . FVSW 7393 says that as early as 21 August, the radio operator responded

incorrectly to a cha llenge question.

29 Conboy, 50.

30 Conboy, 51.

€05303948

Quang Khe was home to several of the DRV's
Swatow-class gunboats, 83 feet long and car-
rying up to three 37mm cannon, four heavy
machine guns, and eight depth charges.
Although assigned to coastal security, they had
not been encountered in the station's maritime
infiltrations using motorized fishing junks, and
their nearly continuous presence in port made
them attractive targets for hit-and-run attack.
Accordingly, PSO acquired four of the 18 frog-

men, and the station co
operational planning. 31

mme nced training and

CIA arranged with the Navy for a reconnais-
sance by the USS Catfish, a World War ll-era
submarine that had long been devoted to intel-
ligence collection along the Asian littoral. It
confirmed the Swatows' presence at Quang
Khe, and on 30 June 1 962 the program's third
junk, Nautilus III, carried the frogmen and their
limpet mines to the mouth of the Gianh River.
They made their way in on a raft for a quick
beach reconnaissance before returning to the
junk. A small sampan would then take them
upriver into the vicinity of the gunboats. 32

Aerial reconnaissance supplementing the sur-
reptitious observation of the junk confirmed
just three Swatows, each lo be attacked by one
frogman, who would swim to it, attach limpets
below the waterline, and return to the sampan.
And indeed It appears that each of the swim-
mers reached his target— in one case an uni-
dentified naval vessel larger than the
Swatows— and planted at least one mine. How
many of them detonated remained unclear, for
one of them went off prematurely, with the
swimmer already spotted and trying to escape.
The explosion crippled the gunboat but killed

the frogman; the station reported that it
a second Swatow had also gone up. 33

hought

31 Ibid., 52-53.
M Ibid., 53-55.

SA1G0546, 2 July 1962,

*Hbld.; FVSA13986.
* SAIG 0546; FVSA T3936,
35 FVSA 13986; FVSA 13960, 24 July 1962,

Gunfire from a pursuing Swatow killed the
fourth frogman and wounded the captain of the
Nautilus III before the gunboat rammed the
junk and took the survivors prisoner. They
missed just one, who hid in the half-sub-
merged cabin and was overlooked by the Swa-
tow's crew, who never boarded the sinking
junk. The survivor drifted south of the DMZ on
a piece of wreckage and was rescued next day
by a South Vietnamese patrol boat. Col. Tung's
PSO accepted the high casualty rate as just
the fortunes of war, and the station seemed
ready to proceed with more operations like
VULCAN, whose results it summarized for
Headqua rters : "Mission successful, price
heavy." 34

Soldiering On

As of la te July 1962 , the station was preparing

28 new

teams, most of them to be

given a sabotage mission, for infiltration into

the DR V. The chief o
Section,

the External Operations
undertook to explain to
Headquarters what it could reasonably expect
from current and proposed operations. His dis-
patch, painfully honest yet spotted with wishful
thinking, encapsulated the Agency's dilemma
as it struggled to affect the DRV's war-m aking

]began

capability with the means at hand,
with a starkly pessimistic judgment about the
results to be expected from operations on the
scale then projected: 'The possibilities of any
large diversion from the DRV effort against
South Vietnam are remote. Our operations are
at too small a scale and initiated at too late a
date [in the course of the insurgency] to seri-
ously aff ect D RV aggression against the
South." 35

"Some effects," however, should be possible.
Sabotage of targets like military facilities,

T//MR

SECB*f//MR

roads, railroads, and crops would require a
beefed-up militia to improve security; this, in
turn, would burden not only the regime but also
the peasantry being forced to supply the man-
power. Operations against targets like locomo-
tives and rolling stock would force the regime
to spend scarce foreign exchange for replace-
ments and parts. Meanwhile, an increasingly
oppressed population might take heart from
these examples of regime vulnerability, and
itself engage in economic sabotage. This, in
turn, would provoke another cycle of repres-
sive measures that would e xace rbate the
alienation of the populace. 36 ! | .

small [inve stmen t in] the program." Pursuing

this theme ] invoked the prospect of creat-

acknowledged certain risks in this

approach, even at the level of activity then
planned. Use of minorities might provoke the
regime into "large scale repressive action"
against particular ethnic or religious groups.
Probably with eve nts lik e the 1956 Hungarian
revolution in mind,

cautioned against

"spark[ing] premature uprisings which we are
neither willing nor able to support." This held
true especially in the heavily populated coastal
areas; it might be more practicable to encour-
age revolt among the "widely scattered moun-
tain groups which would divert DRV troops into
policing large areas of difficult terrain." 37

Having cited some salutary side effects-
larger numbers of trained South Vietnamese,
the accumulation of operational intelligence,
and the refine ment of operational tech-
niques— L_Went on to draw a measured but
ultimately optimistic bottom line. He still
thought it "unlikely that any major physical
change in the scale of DRV aggression against
South Vietnam will result." On the other hand,
it seemed probable that the "material and eco-
nomic damage as well as the engendered sus-
picion and confusion far exceed the relatively

ing more "tension in an already strained econ-
omy" with activity that demonstrated South
Vietnamese determination even as it gave
hope to restive Northerners that they did not
"stand alone." 38

dispatch, released In the name of the
chief of station, thus served to justify continu-
ing the program even while he disclaimed its
ability to achieve the stated purpose. With this
piece still en route, Headquarters cabled the
results of a comparable soul-searching, pro-
voked by the conclusion in July of the Geneva
Agreements on Laos. The agreements would
allow the DRV to divert forces from Laos to
South Vietnam, an advantage that the United
States and the GVN must somehow offset. An
effective program of harassment and sabotage
in the DRV was more urgently needed than
ever, but Headquarters was driven to the same
conclusion as the station. Measured against
stated objectives, "our record in [the] DRV [is]
not good." Operations in the North had been
costly in both men and materiel while leading
to little harassment or sabotage. Operation
VULCAN had succeeded, but teams like CAS-
TOR, to be admired for their very survival, had
done little or nothing. 39

Headquarters did not question the suitability of
the operational technique, confining itself
instead to some conventional cautionary
advice. The station should avoid spreading itself
too thin. It should apply rigorous standards to
the selection of both agent personnel and tar-
gets and pay careful attention to the lessons of
experience. And it should never "succumb to
pressures from any outside organization, GVN
or US Government," to launch operations about
whose soundness it had any doubts. 40

30 FVSAJL3960.I
37 Ibid.

40 Ibid.

30 July 1962,

C05303948

SECI^Bf^R

The single concrete recommendation con-
cerned the scale and frequency of sabotage
and harassment operations. Speaking for FE
Division, Don Gregg urged "intermittent small
scale harassments... [rather than] one or two
larger scale ops against bridges or POL
dumps." The success of Team TOURBILLON's
planned bridge-blowing would be very wel-
come, but probably no more effective in influ-
encing North Vietnamese behavior than a
series of "smaller actions... against isolated
convoys or camps which could be undertaken
[by a] single team member" firing rifle gre-
nades. 4 ^

The Department of State, and particularly its
ambassador in Vientiane, Leonard Unger,
were preoccupied with avoiding the collapse of
the just-signed Geneva Agreements, and
vetoed the supply overflight that the TOURBIL-
LON sabotage operation would require. Wash-
ington turned down Saigon's appeal of this
decision, but informed the field that the inter-
agency covert action oversight committee was
now reviewing the entire question of Laos
overflights. 42

Upplng the Ante

The impassioned debate over the competing
goals of vigorous action against the DRV and
the preservation of the Geneva Agreements
raged until 23 August. On that day, Lt. Gen.
Marshall Carter, the acting DCI, told Deputy
Director for Plans Thomas Karamessines that
the "highest levels in the Government"— i.e.,
President Kennedy— had just approved a
"concept of intensified operations against
North Vietnam." This decision did not, in fact,
resolve the overflight question. But Headquar-
ters counted on it to win reversal of the prohib-

Potential US Air Force Targets in
North Vietnam, Circa Early 1962
Z 1 ~

CHINA

Boundary representation is
not necessanty authoritative

•

Military support complex

Army depot

Barracks

Radio station

Power plant

)(

Bridge

Rail transfer site

50 100 Kilometers

1 —

1 . — 1 .

50 100 Miles

Demarcation Line and
rtL Demilitarized Zone

SOUTH
VIETNAM

Dl Cartography Center/MPG 769690AI (G00095) 3-05

ited TOURBILLON sabotage operation, and
invited the station to identify sp ecific targets
and means of attacking them. 43

Ibid.

15 August 1962.

" S, Carter, Action Memorandum B-1 3. no subject 23 Aug ust 1962,
5 September 1 962J

On 29 August, Saigon responded with an erup-
tion of ambitious proposals intended, the sta-
tion said, to "divert:.. DRV attention from
external to internal matters and cause material
damage to their expansionist efforts into
[South Vietnam] and Laos." Proposed opera-
tions included destroying dredges and cranes
in Haiphong harbor, blowing up the POL dump
at Vinh, mining the channels at Haiphong and
Vinh, blowing up a highway bridge in Thanh
Hoa Province, and a 1 00-man commando raid
against a "probable electronic site" on the Mui
Doc promontory in the Vinh Son area. High-
speed boats could carry other commandos in
company-size raids on bridges, docked ferries,

and isolated military outposts along c oas
Route 1 as far north as Thanh Hoa. 44

Even more ambitious: a resistance effort in the
northwest, modeled on the successful Hmong
program in Laos and using some of the same
tribes. The station also suggested cutting the
rail line entering the DRV from China. Using
enough 14-man sabotage teams, it could, it
claimed, cut the railroad at five or even 10
places at the same time. Another team, sched-
uled for launch in December, would live in the
mountains southwest of Lang Son, "constantly
cutting the main rail line and Route One from
China into the DRV." Two other teams then
being prepared could hit vital roads into Laos,
one of them operating along Route 7, leading
into Xieng Khouang Province, and the other on
Route 8, running down into Khammouane
Province from Vinh. The latter team, BOU-
VIER, could recruit "local relatives for incendi-
ary sabotage and harassment"; along with

Team JASON, it could s etu
"large guerrilla force." 45

d the reception of a

The list went on, with more teams already in
training slated to knock out bridges and mine
roads, and even to ambush military convoys
and raid storage depots. The heavily popu-
lated coastal area provided no refuge for resi-
dent teams, but furnished lucrative targets for
hit-and-run attacks from the sea or down from
the mountains. All of this would be supple-
mented by a massive psychological warfare
campaign using leaflets and radio to pillory the
regime for the draconian measures it would
presumably take to combat the paramilitary
campaign of harassment. 46

Almost as if abashed by its own grandiosity,
the station accompanied this wish list with a
dispatch, sent the same day, that responded to
Don Gregg's call for more but smaller opera-
tions. It outlined in depressing detail the reali-
ties that inhibited speedy, secure, and effective
action in the North. So different in tone from the
operational proposal that it might have had
another author, it identified the obstacles to the
success of any kind of action program against
the DRV. 47 P

This com panion piece noted first the likelihood
that moreP ^operations would mean

more casualties. The South Vietnamese had
accepted with equanimity their losses in the
VULCAN operation, but expansion would
require a willingness to sustain many more.
More limiting than this hypothetical problem
was the lack of reliable, detailed target intelli-
gence. A breezy reference in the operational
cable to 800 targets then being "carded, plot-
ted, and studied" was implicitly qualified in the
companion dispatch. There, the station said it
had "just begun assembling a target file," and it
would take months to bring it into usable
shape. 48

44 SAIG 1952, 29 August 1 962,

45 Ibid.
" Ibid.

47 FVSAT4118, 29 August 1962, | | It was common practice, at least at

the time, for the field to send good news by cable, given wide distribution, and bad news by dispatch, normally seen only at
branch level. One may infer that the station was implicitly asking for working-level understanding of the difficulties it faced in

implementing a set of prop osals it had formulated only under policy-level duress. J

43 SAIG 1952; FVSA 14118.H

C05303948

Patience and hard work might fill the intelli-
gence gap, but the suitability of agent person-
nel was not subject to CIA control. Agent
quality had consistently been "very low," the
result of an overstretched national manpower
pool itself low in quality. "Not much can be
done about this problem," the station con-
cluded, but it took some comfort from the sur-
vival of Team CASTOR, not yet known to be
under enemy control. CASTOR'S disappoint-
ing intelligence reporting should be chalked up
not to nonfeasance but to CIA's "miscalculation

of the quality and quantity o
able" in its operating area. 49

information avail-

Reminding Headquarters that it took four to six
months to "locate, vet, train and launch" a
team, and four-and-half months just to train a
radio operator, the station cautioned that the
full Impact of the new program would not be felt
until the end of the year. And that timetable
assumed both renewed freedom to overfly
Laos and the absence of significantly improved
DRV countermeasures. Finally, the station
raised the question whether the game was
worth the candle. It noted that judging the
human cost was up to the GVN. But only Head-
quarters could determine whether results justi-
fied CIA's investment in equipment and money.
In the sole explicit reference in surviving corre-
spondence to earlier infiltration operations, the
station invited a comparison, for this purpose,
with those against North Korea and China. 50

No Other Options

It seems unlikely, given the pressure to do .
something— anything— to shake Hanoi's confi-
dence in the DRV's internal security, that any-
one in Headquarters thought it worth the
trouble to examine the historical record. Don
Gregg later saw four mutually reinforcing influr

ences as inhibiting the rigorous cost/benefit
analysis that might have dilut ed C IA's commit-
ment to infiltration operations.

First was the fierce pressure, dating at least to
the beginning of 1962, not only from the White
House but from State and the Pentagon. Sec-
retary of State Dean Rusk was pushing both
the military and CIA to bolster the South Viet-
namese by raising the cost to Hanoi of its cam-
paign to annex the South. At Defense, Robert
McNamara was Insisting that the Agency com-
mit its paramilitary resources in support of
combat operations in South Vietnam. The
major bone of contention was the tribal militia
program in the Central Highlands, which for
CIA represented a means of expanding the
GVN's authority over population and territory,
but whose Strike Force units MACV coveted as
another increment of firepower that could be
devoted to finding and fixing the enemy's main
forces. In this climate, the infiltration program
provided, if not much else, at least a demon-
stration of the Agency's good faith. 51

Reinforcing the continuing attachment to the
team concept was a managerial mindset in the
Directorate of Plans (DDP) that almost reflex-
ively applied the techniques of World War II
partisan warfare to denied-area operations in
the Cold War. Gregg and other junior officers
were aware of the slim results produced by the
teams infiltrated into Eastern Europe and the
Soviet Union, in the early years of the Cold
War, and then into China and North Korea, but
they accepted this modus operandi as "the
way we do things."

In Gregg's view, accidents of temperament also
played a part. 'Warrior-priest" Bill Colby had
returned from Saigon in mid-1962 to become
Desmond FitzGerald's deputy in FE Division,
Gregg saw Colby's operational philosophy in
much the same light as had Bob Myers:

« SAIG 1952-1 |

80 lbld O

51 Donald P. Gregg, interview by the author, Washington, DC, 22 October 2003.

Renowned for his World War II exploits support-
ing partisan units in Europe for the OSS, Colby
had not yet accepted the force of Myers' argu-
ment against trying to apply that experience in
communist-controlled Asia. Instead, Colby
focused on doing more, and doing it quickly.

Finally, as Gregg came to see the matter, the
fast pace of operations, planned and con-
ducted in an endemic atmosphere of crisis, mil-
itated against a serious look at the
assumptions underlying the program.

In any case, whatever the variety of possibili-
ties for operations in the South, it is clear that

in the North the options were limited, at best.
As the Saigon Station had earlier pointed out,
with sealed borders and practically no travel,
either by officials going abroad or by non-com-
munist legal visitors to the DRV, there really
weren't any alternatives. The only question-
explicitly addressed, as we have seen, by the
station but apparently not at Headquarters-
involved the prudence of adhering to a failed
strategy. As of mid-1962, both Headquarters
and the field concentrated on the practical
obstacles to the exploitation of existing teams
and the insertion of new ones. 52 f

82 lbld l |FVSA 14118.

C05303948

SECR

Chapter T hree : A Hesitant
Escalation

With the Geneva Agreements set to go into
effect in October 1962, the administration still
wanted covert action in North Vietnam, but it
also wanted no flaps. It took presidential
approval— given on 7 September 1 962— to get
a supply drop to one of the four teams still
operating — or believed to be operating — in
North Vietnam.'

Passing word of this decision to the DDP on
7 September 1962, Acting DCI Carter noted
that Roger Hilsman, of State's East Asia
Bureau, "was not enchanted with dropping
teams into mountainous areas where he said
'their effectiveness was nil— one wooden
bridge in one year was not worth the price.'" To
get around what he clearly saw as unproduc-
tive second-guessing, Carter urged Karamess-
ines to get "overall approval along policy lines"
from Assistant Secretary of State Averell Harri-
man for more insertions via aircraft entering
DRV airspace from Laos. The Acting DCI
wanted this as his "party line for all clandestine
activities.... If higher authority wishes to get
involved (such as the Special Group or the
White House), then let this involvement be
concerned with the policy decision and not with
the minute operational details." 2

Carter's drive for more operational autonomy
had to contend with the administration's near-
obsession to avoid blame if the Geneva Agree-
ments collapsed. When these took effect on 6
October, the White House suspended all "pro-
vocative acts," including sabotage attacks
even by teams already in place. The station

had its hands full, in any case, trying to arrange
the exfiltration of Teams DIDO, CASTOR, and
EROS. 3

In the case of EROS, the station acknowl-
edged, for the first time in the surviving record,
that delayed team response to security chal-
lenges suggested enemy control. But Col.
Tung's people disagreed, at least about
EROS, and thiere was no conclusive evidence
about either it or Team DIDO. Moreover, it was
just possible that a team doubled by the DRV
would be allowed to exfiltrate, its masters in
Hanoi trying to use it to penetrate Col. Tung's
PSO. Accordingly, the station intended to
make a supply drop to EROS, using a drop
zone several miles from the appointed spot. It
would then radio the team, apologi zing for the
errant drop and giving its location. 1

Unlike those ol DIDO and EROS, CASTOR'S
bona fides were no longer in doubt. But CIA
wanted the team out anyway, for debriefing
and rest. Being in fact under DRV control, it
found pretexts not to comply, including the
claim that it lacked a knowledgeable guide to
the Laotian border. 6

Structural Problems

Even without the inhibitions of post-Geneva
policy, the station entered the last quarter of
1 962 facing an increasingly difficult operational
climate in the North. Part of the problem was
terrain. The station wanted to insert teams
below the 20th parallel, farther south than ear-
lier drops, and within striking distance of low-
land targets. But it had found only a
"distressing lack" of drop zones within an
acceptable distance of proposed sites of team
hideouts. With seven sabotage teams being

1 Gen. Marshall S. Carter, Action Memorandum to Deputy Director (Plans), 7 September 1962,

2 Ibid.

3 Con

ooy,

57. I

This document does not identify the team, which was probably REMUS.

29 September 1962,

SEC

C05303948

SEORET//MR

Finally, the report took a stab at assessing the
program's overall effect. It stipulated having
only a few "hard facts" on which to base such
an evaluation; one of these included intensified
beach and coastal patrolling in the wake of the
VULCAN operation. From this, it was "reason-
able to assume that word went out to all DRV
naval vessels and commercial ships to take
precautions against frogmen and to be on the
alert against strange junks and sampans." It
could be "assumed further that a number of
futile alerts have been sounded and more than
one depth charge has been dropped" in
response to a "strange sampan or an unusual
noise." But the program had so far managed
only two acts of sabotage, and the station
thought its effectiveness more likely a function
of the uncertainty about its scope engendered
in Hanoi by the capture of several teams. Per-
haps for lack of "hard facts," the report did not
venture to guess whether this uncertainty had
led the DRV to divert any significant amount of
attention or resources from support to the
southern insurgency. 13

The sta r reporter from North Vietnam, agent
had filed 44 messages, from which

Business as Usual

Still waiting for authority to fly drop missions,
the station took a look at teams on the ground.
None of three singleton agents put ashore in
May and June from CIA's little fleet of fishing
junks had been heard from, but it seemed "pre-
mature to conclude" that any or all had been
captured. They could have been used to sup-
plement the mid-summer propaganda cam-
paign with which Hanoi had exploited the
seizure of Teams ATLAS and ECHO. The
DRV's failure to include them, therefore, sug-
gested that they had just gone to ground, for
reasons yet unknown. 13

three intelligence reports had been dissemi-
nated. The agent had once failed to use the
prescribed safety signal, but when challenged
came back, "apparently somewhat annoyed,"
with the correct response. The incident was
not "considered an indication that he has fallen
under enemy control," and planning was going
forward to provide him a three-man sabotage
team. 14

The apparent progress of Tea ms TOU RBIL-
LON and EUROPA, like that off I also

gave rise in the station to a sense of having
succeeded in a difficult assignment. Following
a brief postponement after the signing of the
Geneva Agreements, TOURBILLON reported
having blown a bridge on 29 July. Saying it was
back in its refuge, the team stated its readiness
for a supply drop, which the station executed in
late September. A supply flight had also gone
to Team EUROPA, which reported finding all
the parachuted bundles; another supply mis-
sion, with two agents trained in sabotage, was
scheduled for it in November. Team CASTOR,
its bona fides also still accepted, would again
be ordered to exfiltrate through Laos once a
long-delayed supply drop could be made. 15

The station's practice of giving the benefit of
the doubt to teams displaying occasional
anomalous behavior did not apply, in the fall of
1962, to Teams DIDO and EROS. Agency peo-
ple in Saigon saw both of these as enemy-con-
trolled, but could not bring PSO to the same
view. The Vietnamese impulse to look for
innocuous explanations for security lapses
meant that, in order to prevent disaffection
among its liaison counterparts, CIA might have
to authorize a supply drop, at least to EROS.
But if it did so, the team would be informed of
the DZ's location only after the fact. 16

12 Ibid.

13 Ibid.

14 Ibid.
16 Ibid.
'° Ibid.

/ 35
SECrtbT//MR

With regard to Team DIDO, the station took
some satisfaction from indications that DRV
security had taken the bait of a notional team
that DIDO was to contact as it exfiltrated
toward Laos. This contact having, of course, ,
not been made, the ploy had run its course.
Hanoi would now have to decide whether to cut
radio contact with Saigon or let DIDO exfiltrate
and try to use the team to penetrate PSO and
the station. Meanwhile, the suspension of new
operations, imposed when the Geneva Agree-
ments on Laos came into force in October,
remained in effect. 17 f

Restrictive Policy, Ambitious Planning

As 1962 ended and operations continued in
the new year, Agency correspondence contin-
ued to display what in retrospect seem
strangely inconsistent perceptions of the pros-
pects for significant results in both airborne
and seaborne operations against the DRV.
When policy considerations, almost always in
the context of the Geneva Agreements, prohib-
ited operations near the Laotian border, Head-
quarters casually dismissed the "marginal
benefits" these might have conferred. In late
November, it recognized the imprudence of
repeated attempts at supply drops when it pro-
hibited a third to Team REMUS after two fail-
ures. But it persisted in urging the program's
expansion, even reversing itself, in mid-Janu-
ary, to allow supply drops, urged by the station,
both to REMUS and even— presumably as a ,
sop to the Vietnamese—to suspect Teams
DIDO and EROS. 18

The station, in turn, responded with an expan-
sion of the ambitious agenda it had proposed at
the end of August 1 962. Its proposal of January

1 963 largely Ignored the practical difficulties that
had figured so prominently the previous August;
there was just one passing reference to the
shortage of drop zones that had up to that point
bedeviled the airborne program. [

The station judged impractical only one of
Washington's suggestions, the one for overland
infiltration across the Demilitarized Zone. Other-
wise, Saigon thought that Headquarters had
presented a "realistic and factual presentation
of [CIA] capability against [the] DRV under
present operational conditions." It went on to
identify 22 potential targets, including bridges
and railroads, "coal producing, transporting,
processing and loading facilities," power plants,
petroleum storage facilities, and ferries. Finally,
the entrance to Haiphong Channel would be
closed, using commandos to sabotage the
buoys that allowed ships to avoid going aground
en route to the harbor. 19 f

But most of this depended on an end to the
suspension of flights through Laotian airspace
Imposed when the Geneva Agreements went
into effect in October 1962. For the moment,
not even those teams ready for launch could
be dispatched, if insertion had to be made
through Laos. For fear of demoralizing its liai-
son partners, CIA had not shared with them the
policy basis for delaying such operations, but
its reticence soon had the opposite of the
desired effect By January 1 963, Col. Tung and
SEPES chief Tran Kim Tuyen were chafing
under what seemed to them arbitrary
restraints. Some key Vietnamese personnel
were looking for transfer back to their parent

organizations in the military, and|

midway through his assignment as chief of
external operations, warned that "stoppages

" ' bid -EZ The station mav ,ater have expressed some residual hope for DIDO and EROS, for Headquarters felt obliged, in
late December, to put thfi-hnrdftn.on the field to supply t he "clear Indication" of their bona tides that would justify a d rop to

either of them

r, to p

(See

23 November 1962

26 December 1962,

1963,

been found,
19 SAIG 4706, 8 January 1963,

12 January

The dispatch outlining headquarters' suggestions has not

C05303948

and slowdowns" might Induce the collapse ot
the entire program. 20

One exception to policy — its rationale probably
the high priority attached to monitoring DRV
compliance with the Agreements — involved
Team TARZAN. The team was dropped in
early January into the lower DRV panhandle,
near Route 12, presumably from an aircraft
that crossed from Laos. Trained as a sabotage
team, TARZAN was instructed initially to report
North Vietnamese road traffic across the bor-
der. In addition, the first SEPES-sponsored
sabotage team, named LYRE, was put ashore
from a junk on 30 December. But most of the
inventory of teams trained and ready to go
remained on hold. There were nine of these in
January 1963, with 29 more in various stages
of formation or training new recruiting had
been suspended. 21

On the maritime side, some 50 candidates
were to begin training at the program's Da
Nang site in mid-January. Just two of the sta-
tion's little fleet of fishing junks were judged
capable of landing a team and its equipment
on the DRV coast; two more of the sa me type
e being fitted for team operations. !
Jdescribed his vessels as "slightly inferior

were

to the ships used by Christopher Colum-
bus. . . we are really hurting for a maritime deliv-
ery capability." 22 !"^

The station and its partners were also hurting for
a successful team insertion. Team LYRE had
been put ashore from a junk at uninhabited Deo
Ngang, where a gorge opened onto the sea
about 25 kilometers north of the Swatow base
attacked in the VULCAN operation. Four weeks
later, in late January, the station fretted that the

20 FVSA 14993, 30 January 1963,

21 Ibid.

Ibid

23 Conboy, 58-59| ] SAIG 5053, 24 January 1963,

team had yet to be heard from. It never would
come up on the air, for it had been spotted
almost immediately upon landing by an outpost
on the coast. Five men were captured on the
spot, and two others, fleeing south, were picked
up within a few days. Better news came from
Team TARZAN, now reporting from its vantage
point over Route 1 2. It had promptly come up on
the radio, and even though there were anoma-
lies in the first three messages — procedural
errors and the telltale preoccupation with the
landing operations— it came up wi th th e correct
answer to a challenge question. 23

The first quarter of 1 963 found the Agency con-
tinuing its attempt to balance two competing
imperatives for its efforts against the DRV.
First, reflecting growing evidence of the GVN's
decline in the face of the Viet Cong insurgency,
was expansion of the effort to distract Hanoi
from its designs on annexing the South. Sec-
ond, embodying Washington's determination
to give the Geneva Agreements every chance
to succeed, was the continuing moratorium on
crossing the DRV border from Laotian air-
space. In the background, affecting all plan-
ning, lurked the perpetual — though little-
scrutinized — uncertainty about the status of
teams in place, perhaps doubled, perhaps
dead, perhaps working— if to little effect-— as
some reported they were doing. 24

The most dramatic evidence of growing Viet
Cong military prowess came with the humiliat-
ing defeat of a numerically superior government
force at Ap Bac, a hamlet In the Mekong Delta,
in January 1963. The shock of this disaster,
combined with increasingly aggressive commu-
nist moves in northeastern Laos against both
RLG forces and anti-communist Neutralists,

FVSA 17604. | ]

Tourison, 66-67, unaccountably has T eam L YRE inserted by air. He also claims that two team members were killed resisting
capture and the leader later executed . [ |

24 For an account of the fraying of the Geneva Agreements, and the resulting relaxation of restrictions on covert operations
in and from Laos, see the author's Undercover Armies: CIA and Surrogate Warfare In Laos, 1961-1973 (Center tor the Study
of Intelligence, 2006), Chapter 7.p~

SECRHT//MR

SECRCT//MR

C05303948

SECBelY/IVlR

began to reduce Washington's sensitivity to
charges of violating the Geneva Agreements.
The proscription on penetration of DRV air-
space from Laos remained in effect. But the per-
ceived need to take the war to the enemy was
again operating to raise expectat ons of the
covert program against the DRV.

The pressure for results may also account at
least in part for a recurrence of the perennial
urge in Saigon to explain away indications of
trouble with teams already on the ground.
Commenting on RDF testing of agent radio
traffic that placed team transmitters well away
from their claimed locations, the station urged
Headquarters not to overreact. Standard secu-
rity measures were already testing team bona
fides, and RDF testing did no more than to sup-
plement these techniques. An "error of [a] few
miles" in an RDF triangulation could actually
give a false indication that a team had been
doubled. 25

The station's description of its security precau-
tions acknowledged, on the one hand, that the
DRV would use the radio operator of any team
it wanted to double. On the other hand, it
appealed to favorable results of testing of a
radio operator's identity — his 'list" — as one of
three indicators of freedom from enemy con-
trol. The other two were the use of pre-deter-
mined danger signals and incorrect responses
to challenge questions from the base. But both
of these were subject to manipulation by DRV
security once it had broken an operator's will to
resist. The station thus seemed to be resorting
to an act of faith to give its teams a clean bill of
health; in late February 1963, it even sug-
gested that the status of Team EROS, earlier
written off as compromised, remained to be
established. 26 ^

Ambivalence at Headquarters

Both Washington and the field had always har-
bored conflicted views of the value of agent—
especially black— operations into the DRV.
Having returned to Headquarters in mid-1 962,
Bob Myers ran FE Division's North Vietnam
Task Force before becoming deputy chief
when Bill Colby took over the division in early
1963. The debate continued, and Myers
remem bered persis ting in his objections to
Project ] [ Even if the thing were more

successful than Headquarters had any reason
to believe, he argued, there wasn't any sense
in a program of covert pinpricks at a time of
overt, if undeclared, warfare. But Colby's readi-
ness to tolerate contrarian views was not
matched by a willingness to change course,
and his support for the program seemed
unshakable. 27

At Headquarters, this ambivalence accommo-
dated both the expansive planning mandated
in January and a skeptical review of the pro-
gram's results and prospects. Implementation
of the planning began on 1 3 April 1 963 with the
insertion of six ethnic Tho agents onto high
ground some 75 kilometers northeast of Hanoi.
Their target: the railway running northeast from
Hanoi into China. 28

While the station waited for the Tho agents-
Team PEGASUS— to come UD_on_the_air^a.
Headquarters officer named

was completing the survey of the

program's results. Pouching the study to
Saigon , Headquarters n oted that the disadvan-
tage of| |previous unfamiliarlty

with the program was "in part compensated
[for] by .the absence of any vested interest in
the matter." The aim here was, presumably, to
deter the station from pro testin g the stud y's

carefully agnostic results.

noted

2 » SAIG 5653. 27 February 1963
26 Ibid .

28 FVSW 7393. 12 April 1963,

Conboy, 59

SAIG 6309, 28 March 1963,

C05303948

that the priority given to intelligence collection
in the effort's first year had yielded such disap-
pointing results that the emphasis had been
shifted to sabotage operations. Then, the
restrictions resulting from the Geneva Agree-
ments had prevented new insertions, and only
two teams— TOURBILLON and VULCAN—
had attacked a target. 29

-Giv.eathe small number of operations,

esitated to make categorical judgments
about the program's accomplishments or
future, although it was clear to him that results
had "so far been rather unimpressive." Appar-
ently concerned not to make adverse jud g-
ments tha t he could not definitively prove!

treated as viable all operational

teams carried by the station. But he did a care-
ful comparison of radio traffic from teams
known to be or to have been under enemy con-

radio contact,

meant the pros-

pect of "further trouble." Communications from
doubled teams displayed other similarities,

In this context, the study
noted the problem of doing something useful
with a team known to be doubled. It could be

udg-

At best,

ment, "the usefulness of this cat and mouse
game is not immediately obvious." 30

Although he abstained from an explicit chal -
ienge to the team's viability,"

noted that the RDF measurement of TOUR-
BILLON's radio traffic indicated its transmit-
ter—like that of doubled Team EROS— to be

located near Canton, in southeastern China.
The readings were "as yet not definitive," but

Headquarters noted that if TOURBILLON was
bad, so in all probability was CASTOR, which
had prepared its drop zone. Echoing the sta-
tion's reservations about RDF accuracy, the
study categorized it as only one of a battery of
security checks which, even taken together,
furnished "no sure answer to whether or not a
team has been compromised." 31

Almost as ambivalent as the station about the
interpretat ion of inconclusive evidence,!

was prepared to accept, at least ten-
tatively, what still remained to be proved. The
correct response to a challenge, after a series
of anomalous messages, could be interpreted
as meaning that a team at least "appealed]" to
be "safe," and the study applied this standard
to Ream TARZAN, whose first three messages
had raised concern. Only two months later did
the team go off the air, and even then there
was no way to know whether it had previously
been under DRV control, or had suffered some
sudden mishap. 32

t reatment suggests that he
made as favorable an assessment of reporting
teams' security as the evidence allowed. If the
choice was conscious, it may well have
reflected a perception that division manage-
ment would dismiss as biased a set of conclu-
sions that emphasized indications of
compromise. Such a perception might well
have been valid, but it resulted in implicit
acceptance of team bona fides until and unless
definitive empirical evidence established the
contrary, 33 r

This mindset led| (to an uncritical

evaluation of the late-1962 supply drop to
Team CASTOR. He noted that the bundles hit

23 FVSW 7393. |~ Conboy, 58, says that the North Vietnamese effort to use TOURBILLON for deception purposes included
destroying the oTiage that the team then reported having sabotaged. |~
30 Ibid.l

* Ibid.

No inform ation supports the RDF indication of Canton as a radio base for DRV security.

« Ibid., FVSA iZ&DArn
33 FVSW 7393.[_ | L — 1

SEGRET//MR

SECBET//MR

C05303948

SEC^ET//MR

North Vietnam: Black Insertions, 1963

Son Tay

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■ . Demarcation Line and
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Dl Cartography Center/MPG 769688AI (G0O095) 3-05

the ground so far from the DZ that they were
not found until the following week, but he did
not mention the risk of their having been spot-
ted, meanwhile, by villagers or security forces.
Likewise, he seems entirely to have ignored
the early communications anomalies that
had — with good reason — cast doubt on sev-
eral other teams, especially CASTOR. Like

other observers, both at Headquarters and in
the field, he found nothing suspicious in the
claimed survival of Team TOURBILLON even
after it reported having lost a man in a firefight
with DRV security forces.

| took note of the paucity of infor-
mation on team operations in the DRV. Of the
14 operations launched by early 1963, only
VULCAN, with its dramatic denouement, had
been followed by a detailed report. Losses of
aircraft had also engendered relatively com-
plete reporting. But otherwise there was little to
go on: "We have no recent analysis from the
station on the causes of losses or successes."
Consequently, the action demanded in the cov-
ering dispatch — it was released by FE Division
Chief Colby — was confined to new reporting
requirements. These included team composi-
tion at launch, analysis of failures, and the for-
warding of numbered and dated translations of
all team radio messages.

Staying With the Program

When Colby accepted as sufficient

muted criticism and modest reporting
requirements, he was, in his own words, "well
aware that black entry operations against the
Soviet Union and Eastern Europe were found
to be unfruitful." But in May 1963 he still saw
"substantial differences in...FE denied areas"
that included draconian limits on legal travel,
the "difficulties of Caucasian access," and a
"much more war-like relationship" between the
parts of divided countries like Vietnam. These
differences compounded the problem even as
they reduced further the prospects for alterna-
tives to the black entry technique. Colby was
looking only at the absence of other
approaches when he said that he had "contin-
ued to conduct a ce rtain number of these black
entry operations." 34

William E Colby, Memorandum to DDR "Black Entry Operations Against FE Denied Areas Cold War," 29 May 1 963.

BtJ

SECRET//MR

C05303948

SEC^^WIR

Over the course of the next three months, as
more teams disappeared into SRV jails, the
weight of evidence overwhelmed even Bill
Colby's native optimism. In early August, he
wrote the DDP that "No intelligence of value
has been, nor.. .is likely to be, obtained from
such operations." The same applied to sabo-
tage: "we have never been, nor in a cold war
situation are we likely to be, able to conduct
small team operations on a wide enough scale
for [significant] cumulative results." Whether
out of loyalty or out of fear, the populace could
be expected to expose black entry teams to the
communist authorities. Colby concluded that
any potential In this technique lay in political
and psychological operations; just how it would
be realized he did not say. 35

There was nothing left to do but cut mo unting

or at

losses by canceling Project

the very least suspending it until some break-
through in tasking or techniques offered a real
prospect of success. Colby did neither.
Instead, he proceeded to deploy as many as
possible of the 46 teams that, as of April 1963,
were ready to parachute or infiltrate by sea into
their intended hideouts in the North. Eighteen
teams would be launched by air if "proper air-
craft" were acquired, while 11 would go by sea;
the means of insertion for the other 17 was still
uncertain. What was not in doubt was the con-
tinued pursuit of the program, 36

It is hard to attribute the perpetuation of Project
to anything but bureaucratic inertia,

coupled, perhaps, with a certain reluctance on
Colby's part to accept the practical implications
of his own admission of failure. Acting on this
judgment would, moreover, have run counter
to a can-do culture that insisted on the Clan-
destine Service's ability to do anything
required of it. In any case, whatever the rea-
sons for this gulf between perception and

action, it is clear that the only remaining uncer-
tainties arose from purely technical consider-
ations.

Some of these considerations derived from the
changing risk environment in DRV airspace and
others from the relative merits of available air-
craft. The DC-4 had the advantage of four
engines, greater range and speed, and radar,
while the twin-engine C-123 had a greater cargo
capacity and electronic countermeasures
(ECM) gear to foil radar-controlled antiaircraft
fire. It would also allow a drop to be made in one
pass over the DZ, because men and supplies
exited quickly through the rearward-facing ramp
rather than taking turns at a door in the side.
The greater experience of the DC-4 crews gave
that aircraft the edge, for light-of-the-moon
insertions, but as soon as DRV interceptor air-
craft appeared on the scene, the C-1 23, with its
ECM capability, and dark-of-the-moon opera-
tions would become standard. 37

Taking Off the Gloves

Perhaps lulled by the defensive tone of:

request in April, the station seems not to
have taken very seriously Washington's desire
for more reporting. Two weeks after inserting
Team PEGASUS, also in mid-April, it finally
answered a Headquarters query by summariz-
ing the aircrew's description of the drop. The
intervals between exits— four seconds from the
last bundle to the first man, and two- to four-sec-
ond intervals between men— suggested a dis-
persed landing and subsequent "difficulty [in]
regrouping." As many as four men might have
landed in trees, with an attendant increase in
both recovery time and risk of injury. The "great-
est concern" for the station was the possibility
that the DZ had not been cleared before dawn.
Nevertheless, it saw the "lack of radio contact

35 William E. Colby, Memorandum to DDP "Black Team Infiltration by Air and Sea Against FE Denied Areas— Cold War," 2
August 1963,[

30 FvsMoaaal | ; : ,

37 Ibid; [ 19 March 1963, 1

[as] not yet reason tor concern," for experience

had established that "no contact for
three weeks [is] not abnormal." 38

the] first

indeed, delayed initial contact had become
almost the rule, and by 1963 there was ample
reason to take this as a sign that the reporting
team had been captured. In July, Hanoi con-
firmed that this had, in fact, been the fate of
Team PEGASUS; its members were tried and
sentenced to prison terms. But neither the
team's silence nor subsequent news of its cap-
ture led the station to examine the reasons for
its failure, or to explore the possibility that its
silence had represented enemy control.
Instead, it continued with the new round of
insertions. 09

In May 1963, the Saigon Station conducted
three overflights of the DRV. Only one resulted
in insertion of a new team, when JASON para-
chuted into North Vietnam on the 14th. Two
other flights had to be aborted, one because of
bad weather at the DZ, and the other because
the static line to which the ripcords of cargo
chutes were attached tore away from a bulk-
head as the bundles fell from the plane.
Another flight, with supplies and two sabotage
agents for Team EUROPA, was cancelled
because of bad weather. 4tJ f

The aircrew carrying Team JASON reported,
on return, that all chutes had opened. But the
team did not come up on the air. The station's
silence on this outcome matched its treatment
of Team PEGASUS, and then of LYRE, whose
capture Hanoi announced on 29 May. 41

No after-action reporting, or at least none that
survives, followed any of these developments.
Had it been called to account at this point for its
reticence, the station would likely have argued
that the demands of an accelerated operations
schedule precluded spending time on mere
history. For as hostilities resumed in Laos and
Ngo Dinh Diem struggled with massive Bud-
dhist unrest in South Vietnam's cities, the case
for bringing the war to North Vietnam became
all the more compelling. The station now aban-
doned its insistence on using Laotian airspace.
Entering the DRV from the Gulf of Tonkin,
project aircraft continued deploying the reser-
voir of teams that had accumulated after the
Geneva Agreements of mid-1962.

Durin g the first two weeks of June 1 96 3, two
DC-4sf Idropped

seven teams into the DRV. Two of them landed
on high ground overlooking the Red River val-
ley and their target, the rail line running north-
west from Hanoi into China. Another team was
to hit bridges and an "elevated tramway" serv-
ing a coal mine north of Haiphong. Two more
were supposed to hit bridges along coastal
Route 1 . The last two were directed at Routes
7 and 12, leading into Laos. 42

Only one of the seven teams came up on the
air. It did so 1 0 days after launch, reporting that
it had landed some 10 kilometers from the
intended DZ. But all members were safe, and
all bundles recovered. The station challenged
Team BELL, but, "probably because we have
become too subtle" in formulating such que-
ries, received no reply. But it had, in fact, been
captured within three days of landing, and its

38 SAIG 7013, 26 April 1963,

"Headquarters does not

feel that the re ports requested either represent a useless increase in red'tape or that they would impose an undue amount
of extra work.'C

39 FVSA 1 7604. In the case of any single operation, the absence of a post-mortem might repres ent no more than the

vagaries of the file retirement process. It is the near-total absence of station reviews of
s uggests that the reporting gap on PEGASUS Is no anomaly. | [
7 June 1963,

operational failures that

41 SAIG 7431, 15 May 1963,

SAIG 7896, 30 May 1963,

William E. Colby . Memorandum fo r Deputy Director (Plans), 'Teams Infiltrated into North Vietnam," 14 July 1963,

C05303948

RET//MR

radio operator coerc ed in to full cooperation
with DRV security. 43 !"

Meanwhile, also in June, CIA attempted or
completed a total of three supply drops to
teams already on the ground. The first, judged
successful, went to Teams CASTOR and
TOURBILLON, operating in the same area in
the northwest. Bad weather forced the second
flight to turn back; it had carried an eighth new
team in addition to supplies for Team
EUROPA, long since under DRV control.
Another try at delivering supplies and sabo-
tage agents to EUROPA failed too, when the
pilots could not find the DZ. 44

These moonlit airdrops alternated with dark-of-
the-moon maritime operations, A slightly gar-
bled station report indicates a June total of at
least 10 maritime missions, aimed at inserting
or supplying four teams, all of which failed to
reach their targets. The reasons included bad
weather, mechanical failure, and the unex-
pected presence of a North Vietnamese junk
fleet at the site of one intended delivery.

maritime case officer at Da

Nang, held out no hope of success as long as
these operations relied for transportation on
the small, slow fishing junks in service since
the I [ launch in April 1961. He intimated
that the station was continuing its use of these
junks only at Washington's insistence: it would
"do all that is possible" with them, but warned

Headquarters that it cou
only minimum results." 45

d "continue to expect

Minimum remained close to zero, as the 20 air
and maritime missions conducted in June
1963 produced only two apparent successes.
To reach even that modest success rate, case

officers and Headquarters managers had to
continue dismissing the anomalous behavior
of Teams CASTOR and TOURBILLON, pre-
sumed to be working together. But, as had
become standard practice, rigorous CI analy-
sis of teams in radio contact gave way to a
search for technological and policy solutions to
the difficulties facing the infiltrations of new
teams, and support to those in place.

And, in fact, there were, as we have seen,
major obstacles in both the policy and techni-
cal areas. In mid-1963, the ban on overflying
the DRV from Laos remained in effect, despite
the declining fortunes of the Diem regime in
Saigon and the resulting perceived need to
distract Hanoi from its support of the insur-
gency. This restriction required all drop mis-
sions to defy the radar and anti-aircraft
concentrated along the Gulf of Tonkin, and to
forgo exploitation of what Headquarters called
the "virtually undefended" border with Laos.
The limited number of gaps in the coastal radar
screen was forcing project aircraft to use the
same few entry and exit points, and CIA
expected the DRV soon to close even these
loopholes in its defenses. Finally, entry from
the sea deprived aircrews of the many refer-
ence points afforded by the mountainous ter-
rain in the west, which also provided some
defense against radar detection. 46 f

In the middle of 1963, the Agency seemed to
harbor little hope of getting the moratorium
lifted, for a Headquarters complaint about its
deleterious effects was made only for the
record. An information copy went to the desig-
nated liaison officer at the Department of State,
but the memo was not addressed even to the
chief of FE Division, its distribution being lim-

43 Conbov. 59, 158| | FVSA 17604: SAIG 9215. 12 Julv 1963.

FVSA 16252. 1 Auaust1963.

44 l 111 July 1963J

45 FVSA 161 52, | | One of these teams, an ethnic Nung unit called DRAGON,

finally made it asnore on 1 & July, u then disappeared; the agents' beneficiaries were paid off in February 1964. (Conboy, 61).

40 Blind memorandum, "Black Flights into North Vietnam and the Laos Overflight Restriction," 26 June 1963,

ET//MR

ited to the branch level. In any case, its rather
timorous conclusion recommended merely
that "the Laos overflight restriction be re-exam-
ined." 47 "

Better Aircraft but No Better Luck

Logistical and technical problems were less intrac-
table than those of policy, and efforts to remedy
equipment deficiencies had begun to bear fru t in
early 1963. In September 1962, 30.

Jairmen sponsored by CIA started train-
ing on the C-123 at Pope Air Force Base in North
Carolin a. In Februa ry 1963, five unmarked C-123s
arrived | (Their crews, having finished the

basic program in the United States, spent the next
several months perfecting their techniques in low-
level night flying and the use of the plane's ECM
gear. The first operational deployment from South
Vietnam took place on 2 July, with the insertion of
Team GIANT at a DZ in the mountains west of the
panhandle city of Vinh. The station and SEPES,
which had supplied the agent personnel, waite d for
it to come up on the air, but it never did. 481 "

Meanwhile, with the

DC-4 crews

reaching the end of their contract, the station
decided to exploit their experience by dispatch-
ing that aircraft just once more, in a mission
launched on 4 July. The plane carried one new
team, PACKER, targeted at the same railway
against which Team BELL was to have oper-
ated, and a two-man reinforcement parly for
Team EUROPA. Team PACKER'S DZ was first
on the flight plan, and the crew watched the
agents floating down toward it. The DC-4 then
proceeded toward EUROPA's DZ. It never
returned to Saigon; judging by the absence of
any reaction from Hanoi, Saigon concluded that
it had not been shot down but had crashed into
a mountainside on its low-altitude route to the

next drop. Meanwhile, as with Team GIANT,
PACKER failed to come up on the air. 49

Two acts of faith, one in the bona fides of Team
EUROPA and the other in the C-1 23's invulner-
ability to DRV air defenses, came within a
whisker of producing disaster when the next
supply and reinforcement mission to EUROPA
took off on 10 August. The station, embold-
ened by a long series of missions with no mis-
hap, had four months earlier declared that
"careful planning and professional airmanship
by flight crews can eliminate virtually all dan-
ger." But the North Vietnamese, apparently
running out of patience with repeated over-
flights, had now moved 10 antiaircraft compa-
nies into the vicinity of the EUROPA DZ.
Approaching the DZ, the supply pallets already
lined up on the roller conveyor, the plane was
suddenly buffeted by shells exploding on both
sides. The crew and the new EUROPA agents
fought to resecure the pallets so that the pilot
could start evasive maneuvers. Meanwhile,
the ECM gear worked well enough to stave off
a direct hit. 50

The plane made it back to base, but according
to one account, the captain was so traumatized
by his bru sh with deat h that he took the next
flight back | | His fellow pilots in

Saigon, unwilling to accept his close call as
mer e coinciden ce, sent a back-channel mes-
sage] fro arrange a reconnaissance by
a

Over the EUROPA DZ, the instru-
ments "went wild" with indications of at least
four antiaircraft positions; in due course, this
information reached the crews in Saigon.
Meanwhile, Team EUROPA, claiming not to
have heard the supply plane cross the DZ, had
reestablished contact with the station. But the
had had enough; they refused further

drops to it. 51

47 Ibid
4 » Conboy; 60, 64.
49 Conboy, 60-61
M Conboy, 63-64
51 Conboy, 65."

9 August 1963^
SAIG 9232, 12 July 1963,

FVSA 17604

C05303948

SECh4t//MR

Instead, the pilots' commanding officer

complained to CIA about alleged "doubling of
teams," which the station t ook as a re ference to
the EUROPA incident. The \~~~\way have

Improving the Technology

chosen not to mention the overflight from
for the station's response did not address it. If
[ were right about EUROPA, the station

said, the team had been "cleverly doubled," for it
had rejected a proposed second supply mission,
claiming inadequate security at the DZ. CIA
therefore remained reluctant to write the team off:
EUROPA, it argued, was "not necessarily dou-
bled." On the other hand, perhaps it was, and the
station did not propose to tempt fate. It had "no
plans [to] resupply again at this time." 52

Despite inferior navigational equipment on the
C-123— in this respect, the DC-4 was better—
Its survival of the mid-August EUROPA drop
proved the wisdom of the change of aircraft.
The station recognized the C-123's limitations
but, before turning the program over to MACV
in early 1 964, seems never to have tried to
obtain the superior C-1 30, a four-engine prop-
jet with sophi sticated electronic equipment.

subsequent rationale for this

apparent passivity noted that plausible denial
would have failed with the C-1 30, then flown
only by the US Air Force; he did not note that
the same applied to the C-123. 53

Agency management had recognized the new
requirements in maritime as well as air trans-
portation support imposed by the sabotage
mission adopted in 1 962. The search fo r a suit-

able replacement for what| palled

his "seven prehistoric junks" found an interim
solution in a civilian craft called the Swift. Used
to service oil drilling platforms in the Gulf of
Mexico, it was big enough— 50 feet long— and
fast enough—up to 30 knots— to handle team
insertions and supply missions. Modified with
bigger engines and extra fuel tanks, and fitted
with machine guns, rocket launchers, and
electronics, it would make up in performance
what it lacked in deniability. The DDCI
approved the purchase of three Swifts in mid-
November 1962. 54

According to William Colby, the Swift repre-
sented a stopgap measure, adopted partly on
a competitive basis, to accelerate the pace of
CIA operations at a time when the US Navy
was preparing its own covert capability. Mean-
while, both the Agency and the Navy were
acquiring the Norwegian-built Nasty, an 80-
foot patrol boat whose two diesel engines
drove it at speeds over 40 knots. In early 1 963,
CIA turned over its two newly acquired Nastys
to the Navy for testing. Much more complex
than the Swift, the Nasty required more sophis-
ticated repair facilities that were to be built and
staffed by Navy personnel detailed to CIA's
base at Da Nang. 55

.12

Conboy, in an un sou reed

passage, says that CIA Insisted on continuing to treat the team as viable. In his view, this decision constituted a "stunning
underestimation of the North Vietnamese security services and a blatant disregard for the telltale signs of compromise...."
In fact, the station may well finally have begun to treat EUROPA as suspect, for in December 1963 it instructed theJeam to
e*filtrataihrau i gh Laos; such orders had become a standard way of testing suspect teams.P~| See FVSA 17604. |

rthVi'

w | |Clandestine Services Historical Paper 36, "Operational Program Against NortrTVietnam, 1 960-1 964," 36-37,

March 1966, CIA History Staff (hereafter CSHP 36).[~]What might have been a rich source of fact and even interpretation
of the North Vietnam program is. in fact, a protractedTcomplaint about difficult operating conditions and about the elements
that the author saw as having abdicated, to one degree or another, their responsibility to help him make the program work.
These included policymakers, other CIA field stations, the author's predecessor in Saigon, Saigon Stati on management, a nd
Headquarters. No ind ividu al operations are identified. An appendix by Da Nang maritime case officer
adopts a similar tone.P

54 Ibid.; QConboy, 70-71 ; draft memorandum for the DCI, "Request for Authority to Initiate St eps to Obtain Certain Vessels
and Personnel Needed for Augmented Marit me O perations into North Vietnam," 5 July 1 963,

85 Conboy, 67-70. The Navy unaccountably gave wide publicity to Nastys in US service when it sent one of the CIA's two
boats up Chesapeake Bay and the Potomac River to Washington, where the Secr etary of the Navy and other Navy brass
boarded for a half-hour's demonstration that was covered in the Washington PostF

SECRET//MR

C05303948

Faded newspaper clipping of patrol bo at of the type intended for
sabotage operations in North Vietnam!"

With an acceptable aircraft in the inventory and
the Swifts and Nastys on the way, the Agency
used the summer of 1963 to experiment with
various technological fixes to the problem of
inserting and supplying teams within striking
distance of their targets. The scarcity of suit-
able drop zones, in particular, sparked efforts
to deliver men and materiel with greater preci-
sion, in more difficult terrain, and in areas pos-
ing greater danger to the program's aircraft.
Saigon wanted devices permitting low-altitude
opening of chutes for supply bundles dropped
from high altitude. It also asked for beacons, to
be attached to cargo bundles, that could be

located with a sma ll, standard radio receiver.

Meanwhile,

an Agency

proprietary at Marana, Arizona, was working
on impact opening devices and on new "control
lines" to drop parachutists and 500-pound bun-
dles into stands of timber. 56

The station was also exploring using homing
pigeons to establish an "immediate commo
channel until [a] newly infiltrated team has
opportunity [to] establish [a] safe area and start
use [of] radio commo." A bird carrying a pre-
pared warning message, released at the first
sign of trouble, would foil any DRV effort to
double a captured team. Meanwhile, the sta-
tion would begin sending in two radios with
each team, one in a supply bundle and a sec-
ond whose components would be divided
among team members. 57

The station proposed another refinement, in
the form of vacuum packing of blankets and
clothing, in order to reduce their volume and,
therefore, the size of cargo bundles. On the
tactical side, it thought to aggravate DRV wor-
ries about the scale of operations with decep-
tion ploys that include d

50 SAIG 9086, 8 July 1 963, and

8 August 1963,

a7 FVSA 16148. 8 Julv 1963

'SAIG 9322, 16 July 1963.

SAIG 9842,

SAIG 9380, 19 July 1963, an d SAIG 1309, 30 Se pt ember 1963,1
" FVSA 161 84, 1 6 July 1 963.T

the

ploy, the record says nothing about the implementation of these Weas]_

With the exception of reporting on

C05303948

A Game Not Worth the Candle

The original intelligence mission of 1961,
expanded that year to include sabotage, now
Included inciting popular resistance among the
DRV's ethnic minorities. In May 1963, Head-
quarters sent Herbert Weisshart, a covert polit-
ical action specialist, to Saigon to set up a
notional resistance movement. Invoking Viet-
namese mythology, it was to be called the
Sacred Sword Patriots' League (SSPL). It
would provide an ostensible sponsor for real
teams on the ground and, if all went well, would
provoke paranoia in the DRV hierarchy. The
first team trained for this multiple mission
included ethnic Hmong and Thai. Team EASY
parachuted into the DRV, near the Laotian bor-
der, on 1 1 Au gust 1963, and soon came up on
the air. 59

while collecting intelligence and hitting sabo-
tage targets. But it had much less luck. Jump-
ing on 4 September into the area of Cao Bang,
in the northern reaches of the DRV, it was
promptly seized by security elements. All the
station knew, for the moment was that it failed
to come up on the air. 60

Team SWAN had the same training and a sim-
ilar multiple mission to spread SSPL leaflets

The same period brought word of what the sta-
tion took to be welcome results of operations in
late August. A team inserted in the northern
DRV reported having laid explosives on the
Hanoi-Lao Kay railway, after which it heard the
sound of an approaching train, followed by a
gigantic explosion, then silence. This team, not
identified in the station's report, has to have
been BELL, whose capture and doubling by
DRV security was not yet suspected. Another
team, also unidentified in the report,
announced having destroyed a bridge. 61

50 Conboy, 75-76.| |
00 Conboy, 80: SAIGT499. 8 October 1963,

01 SAIG 1499^] If there was spot reporting at the time of these activities, it has not survived.

FVSA 17604

G05303948

SEC^ET//MR

SEOftET//MR

C05303948

Chapter Four: Moving Toward
Military Management]^

The reported sabotage operations, modest
even if authentic, came near the end of a tortu-
ous process designed to comply with the
Kennedy administration's June 1961 mandate
to put the Pentagon in charge of most uncon-
ventional warfare. When complete, the pro-
cess would transfer to Defense the entire
program of air- and seaborne team operations
against the DRV, as well as most of the uncon
ventional warfare activity in South Vietnam.

These negotiations were taking place in an
atmosphere of rising doubt, in CIA, about the
capacity of its program to affect North Vietnam-
ese behavior in the South. Bill Colby's deputy
in FE Division, Bob Myers, was still arguing
that the "totality of communist control" abso-
lutely precluded, in the Sino-Soviet bloc, the
kind of resistance operations conducted in
Axis-occupied countries during World War II.
Indeed, the so-called Jedburgh operations run
by OSS had themselves, in Myers's opinion,
enjoyed much less su cces s than postwar myth
gave them credit for. 1

The September guidance noted the inability of
small sabotage teams to hit targets of any
importance. To compensate for this, the station
should prepare its teams for "political action
and [psychological warfare] missions," which
would include recruitment among the local
population for both paramilitary and psycholog-
ical harassment. Presented as if it were new-
earlier work on the SSPL got no mention— this
guidance did not specify just what form the
new activity should take. Indeed, the cable has
a rather pro forma cast, almost as if the

author— FE Division officer| |-was

writing what he'd been told to write, and doing
so with little conviction. In the event, both of the
teams Headquarters nominated for this mis-
sion — BULL and RUBY — were captured on

landing, one
December. 2

in October and the other in

Meanwhile, the bureaucratic trend was running
in the other direction. Despite having no guid-
ance from the Pentagon, MACV had
expressed what the station called a "general
willingness" to take over the station's pro-
grams, on a phased basis and with CIA footing
the bill until 1 July 1964. But it wanted to keep
some CIA specialists for the "medium to long
term." To this the station objected that Wash-
ington now wanted a "more bold and aggres-
sive posture"; it implied that it expected MACV
to forgo any further effort at cover or deniabil-
ity. ;

The question of detailing Agency personnel to
a MACV-run program did not, it seems, come
up at the conference on Vietnam sponsored by
Secretary McNamara at Honolulu on 20
November 1963. At issue was the more basic
question of the potential of team operations
into the DRV. According to Bill Colby's later
account, DCI John McCone assigned him to
present the Agency's views to McNamara and
the assembled military. Echoing the doubts
he'd expressed to the DDP in August, Colby
told them that most of the teams had been cap-
tured or killed. "It isn't working, and it won't
work any better with the military in charge." Left
to its own devices, the Agency would shut the
program down by 1965, turning instead to psy-
chological operations— including black radio
and leaflet drops— "infiltrating idea s, rather
than agents and explosives."'

1 Conboy, 82-83; Myers interview;

9 September 1963,

FVSA 17604,

3 SAIG 1747, 17 October 1963

4 Conboy, 83-84.| |

05303948

North Vietnam: Maritime Raids, 1961-63

i) 3-05

Colby later attributed his change of heart to
Bob Myers's persistent critique of the pro-
gram. He may— indeed ought— to have been
influenced also by a record of failure that, by
the most optimistic measure, was nearly
unbroken. As Myers later speculated, Colby
might have canceled the program forthwith,

whatever the particular influences on his
thinking, had not the imperative to contribute
to the war effort ruled out such a drastic
move. 5

In any case, McNamara took none of these
considerations into account. His reaction sug-
gested to Colby a belief that, if the effort had
failed, up to that point, it was just a matter of
the Agency's being too small to run it. The Pen-
tagon was already prepared with a plan, one
that — given the military's disdain for the
Agency's efforts— took the ironic approach of
echoing nearly everything that the Saigon Sta-
tion was already doing. Drafted for the new
chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, Gen.
Maxwell Taylor, the concept went to CINCPAC
for expansion into what became MACV's Oper-
ational Plan (Oplan) 34-63. 8 ^]

However unenthusiastic about devoting
resources to a failed activity — one about to be
run, furthermore, by somebody else — CIA
management appears to have worked to give
the military the benefit of its experience. Writ-
ing from Saigon in late December, Bill Colby
told his people at Headquarters to do a study
of recorded DRV and Chinese radar pickups of
past CIA overflights, both coastal and from
Laos. McNamara, whom he had accompanied
to Vietnam, had just asked for it, and Colby
wanted it ready upon their imminent return to
Washington.'

A Valedictory Surge

With transfer of management responsibility
imminent, the Saigon Station wanted its stew-
ardship to end with a bang, both literally and
figuratively. In mid-October, it proposed two
maritime operations. A Swift would carry a sab-
otage team to a coastal target. Just what this
was is not recorded, but it was so difficult to

5 Tourison, 100; Myers interview.!"

• Conboy, 83-84j ~

7 SAIG 3240, 20 December 1963,| |

C05303948

reach that the station calculated a round trip to
it of some nine hours from the offshore launch-
ing point. Headquarters thought even nine
hours too optimistic an estimate, and disap-
proved the operation as simply too risky. The
second operation appears also to have been
canceled, for neither the official record nor
postwar a ccou nts by captured agents mention
it further. 8

Meanwhile, unaccountably using one of the
much-maligned junks, the station and its PSO
counterparts launched what appears to have
been the last singleton agent insertion before
MAC V took o ver management of the US role.
Agent
At the

sailed north on 27 October 1 963.
launch point, not far from Dong Hoi, five
of the 10-man crew paddled him to the beach
in a rubber boat. The party then failed to return
to the junk, and after two-and-a-half hours of
waiting, its captain headed south in order to
clear DRV waters before daylight. Two days
later, the rubber boat and its five crewmen also
reached South Vietnamese waters, somehow
having elude d DRV p atrols after landing the
agent, Agent [ ~~ himself disappeared, and
the station never knew whether he'd been cap-
tured or had simply gone to g round , somehow
evading communist security.'

The last CIA-sponsored maritime sabotage Ini-
tiative of 1963 reprised the VULCAN operation
of 1962 against the North Vietnamese naval
base at Quang Kh e. A Swift, crewed by newly-

hired
team

Mercenaries, brought the

to the launch point, from which Team
NEPTUNE proceeded by rubber boat. A bril-
liant rotating light at the mouth of the river
revealed two sampans, whose occupants chal-
lenged the team. The agents saw no way
around the sampans, anchored in mid-stream,

and fled back to the Swift. Anothe r try on
23 December met a similar fate. 10

This effort inaugurated a cycle of new opera-
tional ploys that alternated with public trials of
captured teams. On the 24th, Hanoi
announced the trial of "another group of US-
puppet spy commandos, the tenth since June
this year." The six agents were sentenced to
terms ranging from five to 16 years. Three
weeks late r, on 14 Janu ary, two Swifts, again

manned by

mercenaries, headed

north. Team ZEUS would attack a target near
Dong Hoi, while Team CHARON headed
another 1 8 kilometers north to take out the Ron
River ferry that served coastal Route 1 . 11

The simpler of the two operations had the bet-
ter success. Whether it was a desaiinization
plant, as survivors recalled, or a "Dong Hoi
security installation," as reported by the sta-
tion, it would be hit by rockets fired from the
beach, and the hazards of underwater swim-
ming would be avoided. A rubber boat took
Team ZEUS ashore, where it succeeded in
placing its package of six 3.5in rockets, timed
for delayed firing. Having pointed the device as
best it could, the team returned to the Swift.

The station evalua
successful." 12

ted its effort as "probably

Team CHARO N never reac hed its target.

jcaptain

s evasive

Delayed by the
maneuvers around a North Vietnamese ves-
sel, it arrived an hour late off the mouth of the
Ron River. Like the agents of Team ZEUS, its
two pairs of swimmers left the Swift in a rubber
boat. Leaving the boat at the mouth of the Ron
River, two of the frogmen started upstream
along the north bank while the other two pro-
ceeded along the south. One pair soon
encountered a junk, and promptly did an

8 SAIG 1776, 17 October 1963.

ATG*2T*372~November 1963,

5 December 1963,

10 FVSA 16907, 24 December 1 963J

11 Conboy, 72-73. The station's repor t says ZEUS was to hit a "Dong Hoi security installation," not further described.

12 Ibid; SAIG 3823. 16 January 1964,

about-face back to the rubber boat. There they
waited in vain for the other two, and finally
returned to the Swift. With only half his team
back on board, the skipper was about to give
up and return to Da Nang when he saw a flash-
light blinking near shore. Braving the risk of
discovery, he ran the Swift into the shallows,
rescued the panicked frogmen, and headed
out to sea. 13

Tit for tat continued on 28 January, when Hanoi
sentenced the six-man crew of a boat, se nt to
cache supplies for doubled Teaml I to

terms ranging from four to 15 years. 1 '

Under Military Control

That portion of official Washington devoted to
covert operations against the DRV spent the
month of January 1 964 debating the program's
organizational and command arrangements.
Despite the Pentagon's two-year lobbying
campaign for a greater role in these opera-
tions, it had at the turn of the year not formally
asked for the lead role in implementing Oplan
34A-64. The final version of that document,
worked out by MACV and the Saigon Station,
had reached Washington with no recommen-
dation about future command relationships.
Bill Colby looked at the endless quarreling
between State and Defense over the appropri-
ate targets for an expanded program and con-
cluded that CIA would be better off il it merely
supported team operations while it continued
to run covert psychological warfare. He urged
this position on DCI McCone, who—judging by
the outcome— adopted it in his final negotia-
tions with the Department of Delense. 11

moved from CIA to the Department of Defense.
To run them, MACV created the Special Oper-
ations Group MACSOG), to be commanded by
Col. Clyde Russell. Despite the perceived
inadequacy of the CIA effort, the military
wanted to continue running any teams still on
the ground, and it took over five CIA-supported
teams the station thought had evaded capture.
In fact, all five were under DRV control, and the
milit ary was in effect starting from scratch. 16

The pressure for results that greeted Col. Rus-
sell was even more intense than that which
had earlier encouraged CIA operators to short-
change the counterintelligence side of the pro-
gram. This resulted not merely from the
policymakers' discontent with the CIA effort,
but from the ominous decay of the GVN hold
on the South Vietnamese countryside in the
wake of President Diem's assassination. If
Saigon's generals were failing to mobilize their
people, something serious would have to be
done to distract the DRV from its support of the
insurgency.

Unfortunately for Col. Russell, his new office
was understaffed, and neither he nor any of his
few men had experience in covert operations.
These deficiencies were to be ameliorated, in
the short term, by detailing to Russell some of
the station officers who had been running the
program. In the new organization, each unit
had a chief from one service and a deputy from
the other. Herb Weisshart became chief of the
psyops sections, with an Army deputy; by one
account, he als o served as Russell's deputy,

the station's maritime opera-

On 1 February 1 964, the management of irreg-
ular warfare operations against the DRV

tions officer in Saigon, found himself deputy to
the Navy commander now in charge of the
equivalent section in MACSOG. 17 f

" Conbo y, 73.

14 | 1

,& William E. Colby, Memorandum for the DCI, "Krulak Co mmittee Paper on North Vietnam Operations," 4 January 1964,

'« Tourison. 113; Conbov, 15B. 197, 202:1 IFVSA 17604.| [ _

17 Shulz, 42-431 I SAIG 4433, 1 2 February 1 964 F

C05303948

It would appear that of the CIA officers detailed
to the project, only Weisshart, runni ng psyops,
exercised any managerial authority.

remembered being called upon only tor logisti-
cal support and for help in dealing with the
Vietnamese. He could offer operational advice,
but his Navy counterpart could and did ignore
it,, despite their cordial personal relationship.

]was not surprised, given that the mil-

itary saw their job as succeeding where CIA

had already essentially failed. 18 !

The inexperience of MACSOG's military con-
tingent and the uncritical attachment of station
officers to the operational status quo militated
against a rigorous evaluation of techniques
and operational resources. The official records
and the tales told by survivors suggest a wide
range of causes to suspect that these teams
might be doubled. Team TOURBILLON, as we
know, had provoked considerable suspicion
before its responses to radio challenges
soothed CIA and PSO into thinking that all was
well. At the other end of the scale was REMUS,
whose DRV handlers played a flawless game
to convince Saigon of the team's viability.
When in late 1963, for example, the team was
ordered to mine a road near Dien Bien Phu, the
North Vietnamese proceeded to block traffic
with a simulated attack. Later, with the team
under MACSOG management, the DRV
responded to Saigon's demand for sabotage of
a bridge by creating or simulating visible
cracks in the structure for the benefit of US
aerial reconnaissance. 19

Hanoi's painstaking deception operations and
the lust for results in Washington and Saigon
combined to perpetuate the familiar opera-
tional routine. In February and March, the Da

Nang base, at least nominally under MACSOG
control, tried twice more to hit the Swatows tied
up at the Quang Khe naval base. Whatever the
impetus for these raids— one account
attributes it to the residual CIA staff at Da
Nang— they employed the same tactics used
against the same targets in 1962 and 1963.
Nothing went right. A sudden wind capsized a
rubber boat, Swatows were not berthed as
expected, and foot patrols appeared along the
shore. The frogmen in the February attempt
succeeded at least in getting back to the Swift,
but the four swimmers involved in the March
foray all wound up in captivity. 20

Following the March attack, CIA in Saigon
summarized for Headquarters what it called
MACSOG Da Nang's "speculative comments"
on the results. "Everything went very close to
plan." Although all four swimmers had been
lost, there remained a "good possibility" that
the mission had succeeded. Two more opera-
tions in March 1964 reflected this resolutely
positive spirit, as MACSOG targeted bridges
well north of Quang Khe. Both of these raids
failed, each with the loss of two swimmers. 21

In April and May, Hanoi's Vietnam Press
Agency announced the capture and trial of
Teams RUBY and BULL, dropped into the
North in late 1963. These operations had, of
course, preceded MACV's assumption of com-
mand over penetrations operations into the
DRV, and the revelation of their fate did nothing
to deter new efforts. Indeed, aided by the
arrival of the Nasty patrol boats newly refitted
at Subic Bay in the Philippines, MACSOG
accelerated its planning for more, and more
ambitious, operations. 22

interview.

Conboy, 106-8{

18 Shulz, 43;

19 Conboy, 977

20 Conboy, 101^57
2t SAIG 5127, 13 March 1964 J

22 Robert J. Myers. Memorandum for the DPP. TBI S Squib on the C apture of Seven Commando 50165." 8 April 1964,

| FBIS transcript of

An Uneasy Partnership

Despite cordial relationships with CIA at the
working level, the military rightly sensed an
Agency reluctance either to invest people in an
advisory capacity or to leave the psywar ele-
ment, being masterminded by Herbert Weis-
shart, even nominally under MACV direction.
As of early June 1964, Bill Colby was propos-
ing to "withdraw the CIA complement from joint
operations with [MACSOG] against North Viet-
nam." The military side would be left entirely to
MACV, while the Agency ran a "unilateral
...political and psychological program." And in
fact, according to a study done for the Penta-
gon, CIA did finally decline to assign a senior
officer as permanent deputy to the MACSOG
commander; instead, it would detail a relatively
junior man with the vague title of "special assis-
tant." 2 ^

The Pentagon persisted in its demands for
more Agency support, and succeeded in get-
ting the attention at least of the DDCI. Only four
weeks after Colby urged withdrawal, DDCI
Carter asked the DDP to assure him and the
DCI that the Agency was doing "everything It
can and should to render maximum support
and assistance" to MACSOG. How much CIA
could or ought to do remained a matter of
debate, and the military seems to have con-
cluded that the Agency's help was half-
hearted, at best. Its disappointment with the
level of Agency support may have arisen in
part from surprise that CIA had turned over so
little in the way of going operations. Bob Myers
thought that MACSOG had indulged a para-
noid sense that CIA was holding out on the mil-
itary, keeping its best operations for itself. 24

The military's continual appeals for Agency
expertise suggest some self-doubt about *

MACSOG's ability to succeed where the civil-
ians had failed. What expertise the civilians
actually had to offer is a different question, for
the station remained in the defensive crouch
that had always marked its assessments of the
program's security and results. In mid-July
1964, when Headquarters asked for a security
review, the station insisted that Team TOUR-
BILLON and a reinforcement element— Team
COOTS— dropped to it in May were still "free
and uncontrolled in our best judgment." For
one thing, the station had independent confir-
mation of some team reporting. And if the team
were controlled, the DRV had abdicated an
opportunity to shoot down the plane that sup-
plied the team in May. For the station, this rein-
forced the absence of any positive "indications
of capture or controi." The possibility that all
three indicators represented merely a well-run
communist deception operation was not
addressed, even to dismiss it 25 !

With One Hand Tied

The disagreements between State and the
Pentagon that Bill Colby cited in his staffing
recommendation to the DCI implicitly recog-
nized a paradox that had afflicted the decision-
making process from the beginning. As the
Saigon Station had theorized early on, Hanoi
might conceivably be intimidated by penetra-
tions of its borders into scaling back its support
of the Viet Cong insurgency. On the other
hand— and more likely^it might react in just
the opposite way, eliminating the nuisance by
going to its source with an a ccele rated cam-
paign to absorb the South. 26

As long as success was measured in pin-
pricks—even the claimed accomplishments of
doubled teams like TOURBILLON and

23 William E. Colby, Memorandum, "Saigon Station," 3 June 1964, |

Conboy, 95, cites a study done for the Pentagon in 1980 by the BUM Corporation.
ilGen..Marshall_S.jC.arter..MemorandumlQr_the DDP, "Operations Under 34-A Planln SVN," 30 June 1 964,

26 SAIG 7469, 14 July 1964;^
20 FVSA 13960| ^ Schulz, 39-40.

C05303948

SECRET//MR

REMUS were nothing more — the risks were
manageable. As the number and size of oper-
ations rose, under military management, the
risk-benefit calculation would become more
delicate.

In particular, two of the proposed programs
might call into play the law of unintended— and
unwelcome— consequences. As the station
had observed as early as mid-1962, the stimu-
lation of resistance activity in the DRV could, at
least in theory, lead to a reprise of the Hungar-
ian revolution of 1956. In that case, the West
had felt compelled to stand aside, watching the
repression of a movement its propaganda had
helped to incite. The same outcome could be
expected in North Vietnam, whose communist
regime would react with draconian measures
and might even, in extremis, invite Chinese
intervention. In such an eventuality, success
would hav e resulted in a massively larger
war. 27

Less catastrophic but still unacceptable was
the possible effect of a new MACSOG initiative
to challenge communist exploitation of Hanoi's
supply route to South Vietnam with covert
cross-border operations into Laos. To the poli-
cymakers, the hypothetical tactical benefit of
ambushes on the Ho Chi Minh Trail had to be
weighed against the need to preserve the
Geneva Agreements, with their guarantee of a
Laos at lest nominally neutral. Even the covert
deployment of American troops into Laos from
Vietnam would, therefore, always be weighed
against the risk of provoking either a massive
DRV invasion of Laos or the collapse of the
officially neutral Laotian government. 28

This tension between external strategic con-
siderations and the need to reverse communist
gains in South Vietnam would afflict military
management of the program for the rest of the

war. The difference between the CIA's program
and the one undertaken by the military was
essentially one of scale. It therefore aggra-
vated, in the eyes of Washington policymak-
ers, a problem that until 1964 had been more
hypothetical than practical.

The escalation of the war that began with the
near-simultaneous launching of the aerial
bombing campaign against the DRV and the
deployment into the South of US ground forces
reflected declining administration sensitivities
about provoking the Chinese. But it did not by
any means produce a new, anything goes,
approach to ground operations on North Viet-
namese soil. In addition, the insertion of agent
teams under MACSOG auspices proceeded
under much the same kind of inconstant mis-
sion guidance that had governed the CIA
effort, and sabotage and resistance briefly
gave w ay ag ain to intelligence reporting in
1965.«»r~l

The effect of policy restrictions was intensified
by the DRV's competence at ferreting out
attempted insertions. Hanoi's growing familiar-
ity with the American operational routine offset
improvements like the Nasty, replacing the
Swift, and the four-engine C-130, supplement-
ing the C-1 23. Employing the same techniques
under comparable circumstances, MACSOG
was, therefore, rewarded with no more suc-
cess than CIA had enjoyed. Suspicious behav-
ior by various teams prompted one MACSOG
commander, Col. John Singlaub, to commis-

sion a thorough review of
operational security. 30

he entire stable's

The files were not voluminous: four years after
assuming control under the SWITCHBACK
rubric, MACSOG had radio contact with just
seven penetrations, three of them—

TOURBILLON, and EASY— inherited from

27 FVS A 13960.1 |

28 ibid. ] | —
M Conboy, Chapter 14. [
30 Ibid., Chapter 20. r

CIA. Singlaub's study, done in April 1968, gave
a clean bill of health only to Team EASY, but a
subsequent joint review by MACV intelligence
and CIA concluded that it, too, was bad. Now
disabused of the prospects for team insertions,
MACSOG then adopted, on a much more mas-

sive scale, Bill Colby's psychological/political
concept. Emphasizing deception operations, it
followed the effort that Herb Weisshart had
begun to implement in 1963, under CIA aus-
pices, and then pursued on behalf of MAC-
SOG. 31 T

31 Ibid., Chapter 21

C05303948

SEC7RET//MR

Chapter Five: "Just Shoot Them"

Despite the reservations entertained by differ-
ent managers at different times, the Agency
persisted into January 1964 with black entry
operations against the DRV. At that point, it
had inserted 28 resident teams by air or sea,
and eight singleton agents, some by sea and
others overland. Of these, the sta tion tho ught
five— four air-dropped teams and |
believed to have recruited his own team— wor-
thy of transfer to MACSOG, The intelligence
and covert action achievements of these five
had been insignificant, and the program's man-
agers sometimes invoked their very survival—
as the station perce ved it— to justify the effort,
risk, and expense. 1 "^

Why, then, did CIA decide to launch some 36
operations, persevering for almost three years,
despite heavy losses, for results that barely
qualified as negligible? Why did it go on to
cooperate with MACSOG, even as the losses
mounted? And why did it then so readily (com-
paratively speaking) declare the Laotian corn-

aider program an irredeemable

mando
failure?

The short, easy answer— and one with a good
deal of force— is that CIA had to do something
to respond, first to the original Kennedy man-
date in the spring of 1961 , and then to pres-
sures that increased in proportion to the
decline of South Vietnamese fortunes in 1963.
A presidential order is not lightly ignored, or
even questioned, especially when it is driven
by frustration and anxiety, and both these emo-
tions affected US policy making on Vietnam
from start to finish.

The fact remains that, before the DRV opera-
tions were even considered, independent-
minded observers had been pointing out the
universal failure of efforts to establish black
resident teams in Leninist states. In 1959, at a
conference of his FE Divisio n counterparts,

Peter Sichel had
derided the practice as a "complete waste of
time. We may as well just shoot them." As we
have seen, Robert Myers shared that view. His
objections to the DRV insertion program while
he served as Colby's deputy may well have
influenced his chief's stated intention, in
November 1963, gradually to abandon the
effort in favor of psychological operations. The
dispiriting history of black teams was not, fur-
thermore, unknown to the Saigon Station, As
early as 1962, inviting Headquarters to judge
the cost/benefit ratio, it suggested a look at the
record o f sim ilar operations in China and North
Korea. 2

Furthermore, it was not always a given that the
Agency would simply salute and march off a
cliff simply because "higher authority" wanted
something. CIA was perfectly capable of
speaking truth to power, as two examples from
the Vietnam war attest. The Johnson adminis-
tration had wanted to believe that aerial bomb-
ing of the North would shatter, or at least
dampen, the DRV's will to annex the South by
force. The Agency categorically rejected this. It
predicted that bombing would fail, that no cost
it could inflict on Hanoi would be likely to win
Saigon a reprieve. 3

On the operational side, too, the Agency had
demonstrated the courage of a firm conviction.
Like John Kennedy before them, President
Nixon and National Security Adviser Henry
Kissinger wanted direct action against the
DRV. When peace negotiations with Hanoi dic-
tated suspensions of aerial bombing, they

1 FVSA17604.f J

2 Conboy, 82, citing Evan Thomas's CIA-authorized book The VeryBestMen, 187Q FVSA 14118.| |

3 Harold P. Ford, CIA and the Vietnam Policymakers: Three Episodes, 1962-1968 {Center for the Stuclyof Intelligence,
1998), 49-52. Analysts at ot her a gencies shared this judgment, which was first expressed to the Johnson administration in
a study done in March 1 964.I

SECRET//MR

demanded covert action to keep Hanoi mindful
that intervention in the South came at a price.
Accordingly, they wanted CIA first to harass
and then— after a March 1970 coup in Cambo-
dia cut the communists' maritime supply route
to South Vietnam— help to inter dict th e traffic
entering the Ho Chi Minh Trail. 4

For two years, from February 1970 to April
1972, CIA staged hit-and-run operations from
Laos against military targets in the DRV.
Except for their use of air rather than sea trans-
portation, they resembled the raids conducted
by Team VULCAN in 1962. They inflicted
somewhat more damage, and with fewer casu-
alties, but costs remained dauntingly high. And
the strategic effect of the Laos-based program,
like that of Saigon's teams, was scarcely per-
ceptible. The main difference lay in manage-
ment's reaction to meager results: in the spring
of 1972, after months of working-level grum-
bling made its way to the 7th floor, DCI Richard
Helms told Kissinger that CIA saw no point in
continuing.

When they threw in the towel on the so-called
Commando Raider operations, Helms and his
subordinates demonstrated a readiness to
acknowledge failure that was conspicuously
lacking in the first three years of the team oper-
ations out of South Vietnam. And having done
so, they canceled the program. In Saigon, by
contrast, the effort continued for more than five
years after Colby's admission of its failure,
almost a year of that period while it was still
under CI A management. "

It is true that circumstances differed in one
important respect. For Saigon, initially ambigu-
ous signs of trouble allowed hopes that at least
some of its teams were still secure. Com-
mando Raiders, by contrast— like the VULCAN
raiders— either reached their target or they
didn't. There might be some doubt as to
whether their ordnance actually detonated,

and if it did whether it was on target, but there
were not the lingering uncertainties about
agent bona fides. Nevertheless, it remains that
even in hit-and-run raids like VULCAN and
MACSOG's first such venture, similar to the
later Commando Raiders, one sees a wishful
optimism about results that contrasts sharply
with the hard-headed skepticism that Ag ency
managers brought to the Laotian project.

A similar phenomenon appears in the self-
evaluations that dotted the course of the pro-
gram. As it happened, first Saigon, then Head-
quarters, displayed more doubts about the
program in the early days, when evidence of
compromise was still fragmentary, than either
of them did as signs of trouble accumulated.
Later, even when Hanoi began announcing the
seizure of one team after another, Washington
shrugged off the occasional access of doubt
and joined the field in looking at the bright side
when it came to evaluating those teams still
reporting. Not until mid-1963, as already
noted, did Bill Colby declare the experiment
unsuccessful, and even then, he proposed to
continue it until 1965.

The vocal objections of contemporary critics
establish that, in pursuing black team inser-
tions into the DRV, the Agency had reason to
know the length of the odds against success.
The open skeptics were in the minority, cer-
tainly, but they were uninhibited about urging
their view on their action-oriented superiors.
And even those at the working level who duti-
fully concentrated on making the effort suc-
ceed did so with at least occasional twinges of
doubt. As w e have seen in the artful correspon-
dence from P lin August 1 962, such

enthusiasm as field managers could muster
seemed sometimes, at least, consciously
aimed at m eeting managerial expectations.
Thus,! [balanced his optimistic list of oppor-

tunities with a warning to the desk about the
obstacles to their exploitation.

4 Undercover Armies, Chapter 16.

C05303948

SE^RET//MR

A Cultural Imperative

Taken together, these attitudes and events
suggest an answer to the questions, posed
earlier, about the Agency's attachment to the
Saigon program of team insertions and its con-
trasting willingness to dump the Commando
Raiders. That answer invokes the perennial
tension between the Office of Policy Coordina-
tion (OPC) and the Office of Special Opera-
tions (OSO) cultures, and the expression of
that tension in the styles of individual CS man-
agers.

Team operations into North Vietnam began
during a period in which the OPC ethos still
dominated the DO's self-image. Its adherents
practiced what in retrospect seems a naive
faith that good intentions and energy, applied
with the creativeness allowed by CIA's admin-
istrative flexibility, would suffice to meet any
challenge. Anything was worth tryin g, and
something would surely work. 5

The most influential exponent of the improvisa-
tional OPC approach in the FE Division of the
early 1 960s was probably William Colby. As
chief of station in Saigon, he began in 1960 a
flurry of experimental programs, all of them
shaped by the recommendations of officers in
the field. These led to at least one signal suc-
cess—the tribal village defense program called
the Citizens Irregular Defense Groups — and to
failures, the most costly of which was probably
the black entry program against North Viet-

nam!

But Bill Colby was far from unique in his ten-
dency to operate on a rather unreflective basis
of self-confidence and eager optimism. A good

many of the Agency's covert action projects
and plans of the era were little short of frivolous
and on occasion potentially disastrous. Some-
times, they promised only disaster, even if suc-
cessful, as with the collusion with the Mafia to
dispose of Fidel Castro. Or they focused on a
superficial symptom while ignoring a massive
problem, as with the abortive plot to poison
Patrice Lumumba in the chaos of the Congo in
1 960. For sheer detachment from reality, there
is the 1958 episode in which the Agency
thought to influence Laotian elections by para-
chuting bulldozers into a few remote villages
as harbingers of new roads abo ut to be built by
a beneficent government. 6

Richard Helms later said that he had always
thought covert military action a "dubious option"
in peacetime, but that wartime was different.
With respect to Vietnam, in particular, he saw
the Agency as obligated to contribute whatever
it could. Nevertheless, not sharing the OPC--
style reluctance to admit failure, he did not dis-
courage a sober evaluation of the Commando
Raider program. After a good-faith try, he
declared the game not worth the candle. 7

By the early 1970s, moreover, EA Division
management, both at Headquarters and in the
field, was populated less by traditional activists
and more by expert professionals. Indeed, Wil-
liam E. Nelson's careful, thoughtful style made
him look like a careful bureaucrat to some of
his more activist subordinates. Even Theodore
Shackley, his hard-nosed successor, who was
still chief of station in Saigon during the Com-
mando Raider episode, was more the dog-
gedly efficient executive agent of policy than
he was any kind of activist free spirit looking for
new worlds to conquer.

3 The OPC's attachment to an improvisational style, one that in effect glorified amateu rism, is just one facet of the OSS
psychology, a better understanding of which might illuminate its legacy in DO practice.f~]

fl Undercover Armies, Chapter 1 . The author served in FE (EA) Division from 1955 to 19727His assignments there included
Laos (1960-62) and Vietnam (1963-65) as a field case officer, and he has drawn on his recollections for his description of
the operating style of the period. Full disclosure: he does not recall dissenting, at the time, from any of the cultural values

and professional pract

ces that he now criticizes. ~~J
and Russell Jack Smith, Ricnard Helms as DCI (Center for the Study of Intelligence, 1993) .[

SECBET//MR

A similar evolution had taken pla ce in field
management. Vientiane Station's

was still run by the legendary Lloyd "Pat" Lan-
dry, a veteran of the abortive operation to over-
throw Indonesia's President Sukarno in 1957.
Managing four different paramilitary programs
while helping hold together a fractious multilat-
eral command had imbued him with a sober
pragmatism that had little time for activist
macho. And Vientiane Station itself was led by
Hugh Tovar, whose cerebral approach to his
paramilitary programs took into account the
overarching fact that, whatever was done to
"send a message" to the North Vietnamese
America was on its way out of Indochina. 8

This interpretation, which emphasizes the
ways in which the styles of individual manag-
ers reflected their attachment to their OPC or
OSO antecedents, leaves room for the influ-
ence of other institutional and environmental
factors that contributed to perpetuation of a
failed program. One of these was the DO's
institutional inferiority complex. This was
another legacy of the OSS, which from the
moment of its creation had confronted the hos-
tility of mainstream military commanders to the
freewheeling tactics of unconventional war-
fare. Gen. Douglas MacArthur, for example,
shut OSS entirely out of the Pacific theater.
The resulting feeling of having something to
prove contributed to the DO's (then the Direc-
torate for Plans) unwillingness to admit an
inability to do whatever the policymaker—
especially t he oc cupant of the White House —
might want.

Another institutio nal factor in the conceptual

rigidity of Project
training program

]was the archaic
that shaped
cers. At least

the thinking of new operations off
as late as 1 957, the model for behind-the-lines
intelligence and resistance activity was the

OSS role in the partisan warfare of World War
II. The training regime implicitly assumed an
operating climate in which a population
awaited liberation from foreign occupation or
from the exactions of a puppet regime like
Vichy. It was then applied to Cold War opera-
tions, where it ignored the effectiveness of
Leninist internal security discipline in the
Soviet Union and the new communist states
that arose in the postwar period. It also
obscured the fact that the subjects of these
communist governments, at least those with
experience ol European colonialism, did not all
necessarily yearn for liberation by US-spon-,
sored regimes.

Contributing to this blinkered view was the anti-
communist zeal of the period. Few if any of the
Agency officers serving in Vietnam in the early
and mid-1960s recognized the nationalistic,
anti-colonial appeal of the Viet Minn, and its
success at mobilizing political talent at all lev-
els, down to and including the hamlet. Word of
peasant opposition to communist rule in lower
North Vietnam in 1 956 nourished the American
impulse to believe that the entire country was
groaning under what it saw as a despotic,
exploitative elite. The North Vietnamese peas-
ant was assumed to be ready to seize any
opportunity to cooperate with the anti-commu-
nist Vietnamese of the South. In fact, when-
ever local peasants came upon indications of a
foreign presence, their immediate and only
impulse was to report to the authorities.
Whether they did so out of fear or out of posi-
tive loyalty, or some com binati on of the two;
the result was the same. 8

Finally, in this context of cultural influences,
comes the disdain for counterintelligence. Not
characteristic of the entire Clandestine Ser-
vice — for many years , CI was the heart of oper-
ations against the Soviet Union— the

8 The management s tyles of Tovar and Landry are described in the author's Undercover Armies: CIA and Surrogate Warfare
in Laos, 1961-1973] |

8 The author remembers hearing for the first time, in Vietnam, about the Sino-Soviet split, which he— and to the best of his
recollection most of his colleagues there — dismissed as mere communist disinformation. He can think of no be tter reason
for his closed mind than the threat posed to the activist ethos by the uncertainties of a complicated world ] ]

SEORET//MR

prevalence of this bias corresponded roughly
to the importance assigned to covert action in
a given area division or field station. In the FE
Division of the 1950s and into the 1960s and
beyond, CI barely ranked as an operational
stepchild, and ritual injunctions to pay more
attention to it and to operational security in
general were neither enforced nor obeyed.

This institutional indifference to CI in FE Divi-
sion was, to be sure, encouraged by mutual
dislike and distrust between Bill Colby and
James J. Angleton. As chief of the CI Staff,
Angleton suspected that, in the late 1 950s and
1960s, the DRV was penetrating and playing
back Saigon Station's operations against it.
Accordingly, he urged Colby to accept a CI
Staff unit in Saigon, something comparable to
the OSS's X-2 element. Colby would have
nothing to do with it, and frustrated Angleton's
design. But as with other organizational prac-*
tices, FE Division's indifference to CI was not
the creation of a single manager; it pervaded
the entire culture. 10

The Lust to Succeed

The case o fficers and managers of Project

j probably gave little if any thought to
the cultural and institutional influences on their
professional practice. They were busy getting
on with the task at hand. The Agency seems to
have assigned itself that task, for work on it
began a year before President Kennedy's
demand for guerrillas in the North. No corre-
spondence from those early days has been
found, and the only account of the inaugural
period is Bill Colby's, given in an interview in
the mid-1990s,

As Colby recalled it after some 35 years, the
decision to go north sounds almost casual.
Trying to distract the Vietnamese from their
obsessive effort to overthrow Prince Sihanouk

in neighboring Cambodia, Colby had been
looking for ways to return the emphasis to the
South Vietnamese insurgency and its spon-
sors in Hanoi. "One of the questions came up
very soon, why don't we do to them what they
do to us, in North Vietnam. And we went back
to our World War II experience of dropping
people in by parachute and things like

that...." 11

It is significant that Colby reached back to the
Second World War for a precedent, for if he
had looked to the more recent past, he would
have found nothing but failed operations
against the Soviet Union, China, and North
Korea. There is also the very fact of his reli-
ance on OSS experience for ideas for a new
and only superficially similar problem. Now, it
may well be that he could have offered a more
refined rationale for the program, had his inter-
viewer pursued the point. As it is, we are left
with an account that leaves him and the
Agency looking as if they were still fighting, not
even the last war, but an even earlier, conflict,
one w hose o utcome made it a more congenial
model.

In World War II, it was Americans, along with
British and other allies, who were "drop-
ping... in by parachute," but no one ever sug-
gested adopting this feature of OSS practice in
the Cold War operations that followed. If any-
one had, the reaction might have tempered the
damn-the-torpedoes flavor of the| |

enterprise, and of similar efforts earlier in the
Cold War. An American presence would, of
course, have multiplied the already enormous
risks, apdJhere_is_no reason—at least in the

-to think that it would have
;s.

case of

improved the resul

The question remains whether any Agency
manager would ever have taken the same
risks, for so little reward, if these operations
had required even a token CIA presence. It is

10 John Prados , Los t Crusader: The Secret Wars of CIA Director William Colby (Oxford University Press, 2003), 1 60-61 J I
"Tourison, 1 9.1 ^

certainly true that the GVN tolerated its casual-
ties, not all of whom were merely expendable
members of despised minorities. This willing-
ness, it seems, served to legitimize for CIA the
exposure of dozens of Vietnamese agents to a
degree of risk that no Agency manager would
ever ha ve c ontemplated imposing on his own
people.

This interpretation is necessarily speculative.
But nothing else explains the Agency's appar-
ent sense of detachment from the fate of the
agent personnel. That sense may have been
encouraged by the sometimes almost adver-
sarial tone of the relationship with them, some-
thing provoked by their generally low quality
and frequently uncertain motivation.

But even lacking any sense of personal attach-
ment to the people being dispatched to an
uncertain fate, the station could be expected to
have devoted serious efforts to identifying the
causes of a series of failures seen by late 1 963
as nearly without exception. That it did not do

so is att
staffing;

ributable. in part, simolv to inadequate

But the fact remains that the

surviving official correspondence expresses
almost no curiosity about or interest in the
causes of known failures. 12

One academic study of the program, based
largely on interviews conducted with captured
agents after their release by Hanoi, makes
repeated references to poorly selected drop
zones, attributing them to the planners' reliance
on old and unreliable French maps, in fact, the
official record is replete with correspondence

ssance pho tos
mis-

detailing the aerial reconna
explicitly commissioned for
sions. But it does appear that drop zones some-
times—perhaps often— turned out to lie in
populated areas. It is possible, of course, that

navigational error led to some teams, or individ-
ual team members, being dropped far from their
specified DZs. Thisquestion would have figured
prominently in any examination of the program,
but no serious effort of the kind was done until
1968. At that point, as we have seen, CIA col-
laborated with the military to conclude that even
Team EASY, which had enjoyed the greatest
confidence, was also compromised. 13

The CI exercise that exposed Team EASY
came four years after CIA had ce ded to MAC-
SOG the American side of Project |
management. Had the Agency applied the
same rigor to this kind of examination on its
own watch, it might well have written off the
teams that it eventually bestowed on the mili-
tary. One feature of their performance, notable
from the beginning, was their almost universal
failure to come up on the air for weeks after
insertion. Despite its standard injunction to
make contact immediately, the station invari-
ably accepted the excuses offered in tardy first
reports. By July 1963, it was treating the phe-
nomenon as routine when it reported a team as
having come up after the "usual initial one
month silence." Risky at best, this passive
stance turned into simple credul ousn ess as
one instance followed another. 14

The lust to succeed, in an institution that
defines itself by its ability to do what the policy-
maker wants done, cannot be eliminated, but
only managed. Clearly, the notoriously risk-
averse stance that followed William Casey's
stewardship was not and is not the answer. But
neither is the almost robotic activism with
which the DO tends to respond to policy-level
pressure. For examples, one need look no far-

penetrations of

yvith "recruitment" the

goal, the DO let itself be manipulated into a

12
13

II , ,

conboy, wh ose references to faulty drop zones include one on page 62.

M SAIG 9322.

C05303948

series of embarrassing and damaging failures

in which nearly al
by the other side.

the agents were controlled

These sell-inflicted wounds might have been
prevented by an institutionalized adversarial
process that, in effect, took the OSO-OPC cul-
tural rivalry and turned it to constructive pur-

aCI

pose. In the case of Project
section in the Saigon Station of the period,
charged by the COS with challenging the oper-
ators, would very early on have produced a
more balanced assessment than the station
ever, in fact, conducted. But a CI unit would by
itself have had little effect, in the absence of a
watchfully skeptical chief, and skepticism was
uncongenial to both Colby and Richardson.
Both of them displayed more interest in a dis-
play of vigorous action than in resolving indica-
tions of trouble even with the few teams still
maintaining radio contact. Headquarters, more-
over, abdicated its oversight role, making just
one half-hearted effort to evaluate the integrity
and productivity of the effort. There, too, worka-
day pressures on a small staff inhibited a hard
look at the program. But so did the comfort of
knowing that "this is the way we do things."

The Pitfalls of "Lessons Learned"

mis-

What is to be learned from the

adventure? For one thing, it suggests that the
conventional "lessons learned 1 * approach to a
professional lailure usually obscures what
most needs to be illuminated. Why? Because
the conventional examination of a disaster is
usually confined to mechanics, the particular
flaws in operational tradecraft or analytical
interpretation that led to it. Conducted by peo-
ple who share the culture of those they are
judging, exercises in "lessons learned" hardly
ever examine the institutional factors behind a

failure. But these must be identified if errors
are not to proliferate. The reasons why, for
example, an operational component ignores all
the canons of counterintelligence practice,
while it clings to a failed program, are what

count.

An attempt to get behind flaws in professional
practice to find root causes encounters its own
difficulties. To what extent is institutional cul-
ture the product of the personal style of individ-
ual leaders, and to what extent, conversely, are
the leaders formed by their culture? One thing
seems certain, that in a meritocracy whose
leadership rises from the ranks, an institutional
culture tends to be perpetuated from one gen-
eration to the next. In such an organization, the
greatest threat to effective performance is fail-
ure to adapt to a changing environment. Past
experience, especially that of an institution's
founders, tends to shape perceptions of events
and circumstances long after it has lost what-
ever relevance it may at first have offered

In the case of Project

the pro-

gram's originator was himself one of the CS's
founding fathers, but Bill Colby cannot be
accused of having imposed an idiosyncratic
mindset on unwilling subordinates. Only two
CS officials are known to have opposed the
effort, despite an open Colby management
style that positively encouraged the lower
ranks to speak freely. Their acquiescence
resulted more from cultural mores, accepted
and internalized, than from any kind of subser-
vience, even reluctant. Had neither Colby nor
any other OSS veteran been on hand when the
Kennedy administration called for action
against North Vietnam, the response would
likely have been the same. 15

One thing is certain: archaic modes of thought
and outmoded professional self-image will yield

SE4RET//MR

15 The power of cultural convention is on even more conspicuous display in the history of US Air Force programs that
reduced the importance of manned aircraft, and thus threatened pilots' self-image. This occurred first with ballistic missiles
as a threat to the mannedbomber and more recently with controversy over unmanned aerial vehicles as a partial substitute
for manned combat and reconnaissance missions, f

/ 63
SECPET//MR

only to determined, independent-minded leader-
ship. The challenge to DO management, in the
early 21 st century, is to develop a culture that
combines self-confident energy with construc-
tive self-questioning. Bureaucracies and their

leaders hate dealing with an ambiguous agenda
like this one, but it cannot be avoided without
risking catastrophic failure in an era of unprece-
dented threats to the national security. [~

C05303948

SECRET//MR

Source Note (U)

In comparison with EA Division holdings on its
operations in Laos and South Vietnam, the sur-
viving record oh team insertions into the DRV
is remarkably thin. Chronological files have
been found tor all of the code-named opera-
tions, including many that were never
launched, and it thus appears that what has
been seen i s what was archived. If so, Project

l is by far the most poorly docu-
mented of the activities researched by the
author in his 1 5 years of work on Agency oper-
ations in Indochina. The total absence of any
examination of failed operations is particularly
striking. Opportunities for interviews with par-
ticipants have also, by comparison with earlier
volumes, been few and far between; I am,

however, qratefu

for the useful recollections of
and Robert Myers.

A small but serious open literature saved this
project from becoming an exercise jn futility.

Richard Shultz was particularly helpful on the
policy context of the early 1960s. Kenneth
Conboy, with Dale Andrade, and Sedgwick
Touris on conducted detailed interviews with
former] [agents after their release

from communist jails; the Conboy book, in par-
ticular, has assembled narrative material that
seems to reflect a good-faith effort to get not
merely stories, but facts.

Shulz, Richard H„ Jr. The Secret War Against
Hanoi: The Untold Story of Spies, Saboteurs,
and Covert Warriors in North Vietnam (Peren-
nial Books, 2000).

Conboy, Kenneth, and Dale Andrade, Spies
and Commandos: How America Lost the
Secret War in North Vietnam (University Press
of Kansas, 2000).

Tourison, Sedgwick, Secret Army, Secret War:
Washington's Tragic Spy Operation in North
Vietnam (Naval Institute Special Warfare
Series, 1995).

C05303948

SE^RET//MR

SEQRET//MR

C05303948

SECAET//MR

AndradS, Dale, 65
Angleton, James J., 61
A p Bag 37

capture, 13, 14, 17, 18, 22
deception, 23, 24, 35
game plan, 13, 43, 55, 57
resupply, 22, 52

ATLAS, 24, 35

Bay of Pigs, 11,25

BELL, 42, 44, 47

Ben Hai River, 10, 12

black entry, 1,3,4, 19, 40, 57,59

black teams, 1

black Thai, 24

BOUVIER, 30

Buddhist unrest, 42

BULL, 49

Cambodia, 58, 61

Can Lao, 7
CANO, 51
Canton, 39
Cao Bang, 47

Carter, Lt. Gen. Marshall, 29, 33
Casey, William, 62
CASTOR

capture, 14, 15, 16

deception, 23, 25, 28, 31 , 33, 35, 39, 40,
43

game plan, 13, 20

resupply, 14, 15, 16, 19, 23, 39, 43
Castro, Fidel, 11 , 59
Central Highlands, 31
CHARON, 51
China, 39, 42

Chondokyo, 3
CINCPAC, 50

Citizens Irregular Defense Groups, 59
Colby, William

"warrior priest", 31

and black entry operations, 3, 4, 23, 25,

32, 38, 40, 50, 57, 59
and James J. Angleton, 61
as Chief of Station, 23
Citizens Irregular Defense Groups, 59
MACSOG, 54, 56
OSS, 4, 10, 49

Swifts , 45

Commando Raiders, 58, 59
Conboy, Kenneth, 65

COOTS, 54

Da Nang, 22, 23, 37, 43, 45, 52, 53
DDP (Directorate of Plans), 31
Demilitarized Zone (DMZ), 7, 10, 36
DIDO, 14, 16, 22, 24, 33, 35, 36
Diem, Ngo Dinh, 7, 8, 42

assassination, 52

regime, 43
Dien Bien Phu, 24, 53
Directorate of Plans (DDP), 31
Dong Hoi, 26, 51
DRAGON, 43
Drop Zone (DZ), 40,41
DRV (Democratic Republic of Vietnam), 7, 9,

11,13,37,61,65
Durbrow, Elbridge, 9
DZ (Drop Zone), 40, 41

/ 67

SECRET//MR

EA Division, 65
EASY, 47, 55, 62
ECHO, 14, 15, 18, 19, 24, 35
Effects on airborne operations, 28, 29, 33, 34,
36, 55

Eisenhower, President Dwight, 7, 1 1
electronic countermeasures (ECM), 41
EROS, 26, 33, 35, 38, 39
EUROPA, 21 , 23, 35, 42, 43, 44
European colonialism, 60

Felt, Adm. Harry, 25
fist print, 14

FitzGerald, Desmond, 31
frogmen, 27

Geneva Accords, 7, 28, 33, 36, 37, 39, 42, 55
Geneva Agreements on Laos, 28, 29, 33, 34,

36, 55
Gianh River, 26
GIANT, 44
GN-58 generator, 17
Gregg, Don, 29, 30, 32
Gulf of Tonkin, 22, 42,43
GVN (Government of Vietnam), 7, 37, 62

Ha Long Bay, 12, 22
Haiphong, 13, 22, 30, 42
Haiphong Channel, 36
Hanoi, 9, 35, 37, 42, 52, 57, 58, 62
Hanoi Politburo, 9
Hanoi-Lao Kay railway, 47
Harriman, Averell, 33
Helms, Richard, 58, 59
Hilsman, Roger, 33

Hmong (Muong), 11, 16, 25, 26, 30, 34

Ho Chi Minn, 7, 9, 10

Ho Chi Minn Trail, 9, 55, 58

Hoa Binh Province, 19, 21

Honey, Professor P. J., 20

HUMINT, 1

Infiltrating ideas
black radio, 49
leaflet drops, 49
Insertion Operations, North Vietnam
Airborne Code Names

ATLAS, 24, 35

BELL, 42, 44, 47

BOUVIER, 30

BULL, 49, 53

CASTOR. See CASTOR

COOTS, 54

DIDO, 14, 15, 16, 17, 24, 35

ECHO, 14, 15, 16, 17, 19, 24, 35

EROS, 25, 26, 35

EUROPA, 21 , 23

JASON, 30, 42

PEGASUS, 42

REMUS, 24, 55

RUBY, 49, 53

SWAN, 47

TARZAN, 37, 39

TOURBILLON, 23, 26, 29, 43, 54

itime Code Names

11, 15, 17, 18, 22
13

CANO. 51

10, 11

LYRE, 37, 42
NEPTUNE, 51
Maritime Raids
CHARON, 51

VULCAN, 26, 27, 28, 35, 58

ZEUS, 51
Insertion Ops
China, 2, 3
France

C05303948

SECRET//MR

Insertion Ops, France (continued)
Jedburgh, 1, 2, 10
Nepal, 3
North Korea, 3
Soviet Union

REDSOX, 2
Tibet, 3 ^

JASON, 30, 42
Jedburgh, 2, 10, 49
Johnson, Lyndon, 57

Karamessines, Thomas, 29, 33
Kennedy, Bob, 52

Kennedy, President John F., 1 0, 25, 26, 29, 49,
57, 61

Khrushchev, Nikita, 10

Kissinger, Henry, 57, 58

Ky, Major Nguyen Cao, 13, 23

Lai Chau, 14, 25

Landry, Lloyd "Pat", 60

Lang Son Province, 30

Laos, 25, 34, 35, 36, 37, 42, 55

Leninist, 60

Lumumba, Patrice, 59

LYRE, 37, 42

MACV, 13, 31 , 45, 49, 50, 52, 54, 56
MACV Operational Plan (Oplan), 50
MACV Special Operations Group (MACSOG),
* 52

Management of insertion operations, 53

MACSOG, 55
Marana, Arizona, 46
McCone, John, 49, 52
McNamara, Robert, 25, 31 , 49, 50
Mekong Delta, 37

Military Assistance Command/Vietnam

(MACV), 13, 31, 45, 49, 50, 52, 54, 56
Military Security Service (MSS), 8
Moc Chau District, 14
MSS (Military Security Service), 8
Mui Doc, 30
Muong (Hmong), 21
Myers, Robert, 10, 31, 38, 49, 54, 57

Nastys (patrol boats), 45, 55

National Security Council, 10

Natsios, Nicholas, 8

Nautilus I, 22

Nautilus II, 22

Nautilus III, 27

Nelson, William E., 59

Nepal, 3

NEPTUNE, 51

Neutralists, 37

Nghe An Province, 24

Nhan Dan, 20

Nixon, Richard, 57

North Vietnamese, 7, 10, 26, 29

Nung, 34, 43

MacArthur, Gen. Douglas, 60
MACSOG, 52, 53, 54, 55, 57, 58, 62
Saigon Station relationship with, 54

Office of Policy Coordination (OPC), 59, 60, 63
Office of Special Operations (OSO), 59, 60, 63
Office of Strategic Services (OSS), 1 , 60

Operation VULCAN, 26, 27, 28, 30, 35, 37, 39,
40, 51 , 58

SECRET//MR

Rusk, Dean, 31
Russell, Col. Clyde, 52

PACKER, 44

Pao, Major Vang, 16

PASF (People's Armed Security Force), 13,

14, 23, 25, 26
Patrol boats

Nastys, 45

Swifts, 45
Patton, Gen. George, 4
PEGASUS, 38, 42
Pentagon, 11, 25; 49, 54
People's Armed Security Force (PASF), 13,

14, 23, 25, 26
Phnom Penh, 10 .

PLO (Presidential Liaison Office), 8, 9, 14
Police Special Branch (see Surety), 8
Politburo (Hanoi), 9, 21
Presidential Liaison Office (PLO), 8, 14
Presidential Survey Office (PSO), 22, 24, 27,

33, 35, 36,51
Projectl |13

Project

See

PSO (Presidential Survey Office), 22, 24, 27,

33, 35, 36, 51
Pyongyang, 26

Quang Khe, 26,51,53

red Thai, 26
REDSOX, 2

REMUS, 24, 33, 36, 53, 55
Richardson, Elliot, 63
Ron River, 51
Route 1 , 42, 51
Route 12, 37, 42
Route 7, 30, 42
Route 8, 30
RUBY, 49

Sacred Sword Patriots' League (SSPL), 47, 49
Saigon (city), 57
Saigon Station, 50

Air Operations Branch, 62

Black teams, 1, 16, 26, 54

CASTOR, 14, 19

counterintelligence, 61, 63

deception, 24

game plan, 21 , 42

headquarters, 36, 38, 42, 45

MACV, 50, 52, 57

Maritime Branch,. 62

North Vietnam, 4, 32

resupply, 15, 19, 23, 26, 44
SEPES (Service for Political and Social

Studies), 7, 8, 9, 36, 37, 44
Shackley, Theodore, 59
Sichel, Peter, 57
Sihanouk, Prince, 61
Singlaub, Col. Joh n, 55

Smith, Gen. Walter Bedell, 3
Son La Province, 13, 16, 19, 23
South Vietnam, 7
South Vietnamese, 28

SSPL (Sacred Sword Patriots' League), 47, 49

Subic Bay, 53

Sukarno, 60

supply missions, 45

Surete (see Police Special Branch), 8

SWAN, 47

Swatow-class, 25, 27
Swifts (patrol boats), 45, 55
SWITCHBACK, 55

C05303948

TARZAN, 37, 39

Taylor, Gen. Maxwell, 50

Team ATLAS, 24, 35

Team BELL, 42, 44, 47

Team BOUVIER, 30

Team BULL, 49 '

Team CASTOR. See CASTOR

Team CHARON, 51

Team COOTS, 54.

Team DIDO, 14, 16, 22, 24, 33, 35, 36
Team EASY, 47

Team ECHO, 14, 15, 18, 19, 24, 35

Team EROS, 33, 35, 38, 39

Team EUROPA, 21, 23, 35, 42, 43, 44

Team GIANT, 44

Team JASON, 42

Team LYRE, 37, 42

Team NEPTUNE, 51

Team PACKER, 44

Team PEGASUS, 38, 42

Team REMUS, 24, 36

Team RUBY, 49

Team SWAN, 47

Team TARZAN, 37, 39

Team TOURBILLON. See TOURBILLON

Team ZEUS, 51 .

Thanh Hoa, 46

Thanh Hoa Province, 26, 30, 46
Tibet, 3, 4
Tofte, Hans, 3
TOURBILLON
capture, 40

deception, 35, 39, 40, 43, 53, 54
game plan, 23, 25, 29, 55
resupply, 29, 35, 43
Tourison, Sedgwick, 65

Tovar. Hua

capture, 17
Cuba, 10
deception, 17

game plan, 10, 17, 27, 30, 38, 41, 61, 62,
65

Kennedy, 10, 11, 63
MACSOG, 62
resupply, 15, 62

Tung, Lt. Col. Le Quang, 8,12,1 9, 21 , 22, 27,
33, 36

Tuyen, Tran Kim, 7, 8, 36

Ulmer, Al, 7
Unger, Leonard, 29
USS Catfish, 27

Vichy, 60

Vientiane Station, 60
Viet Cong, 9, 37, 54
Viet Minn, 7, 9, 60

Viet Nam Doc Lap Dong Minh (see Viet Minh),
9

Vietnam

Democratic Republic of Vietnam (DRV), 7,
9, 11, 13, 37, 65

Government of Vietnam (GVN), 7, 37, 62
Vietnam Press Agency, 53
Vinh (city), 44

Vinh Son, 30 i

VULCAN, 26, 27, 28, 30, 35', 37, 39, 40, 51 , 58

w •

Weisshart, Herbert, 47, 52, 54, 56

Xieng Khouang Province, 30

ZEUS. 51

Dvong Eon

org

Son

Quong

1 h n I

.4 ,-w»v341 H
fTWftwJJ

Oil

CENTER f&> STUDY (/INTELLIGENCE

Washington, DC
May 2005

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